


For the Good of Iacon

by EbonyAura



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Brotherly Love, Discipline, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fear of Death, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Lords and Princes, M/M, Medieval Universe AU, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Threats of Violence, melting pot of transformer characters, mentions of dead oc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2020-10-10 06:38:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 23,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20523596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EbonyAura/pseuds/EbonyAura
Summary: A flash of panic whipped down his spinal strut, but he quickly dismissed it, shuttering his optics and pulling in a small vent.Step forward, step lightly. Shoulders back, optics up, look straight ahead. Hold oneself with poise, bow to another with respect, walk amongst others with dignity.Cerulean blue optics opened once more, and he set his shoulders straight as he strode into view, falling into a controlled pace. As he stopped at the top of the stairs, his white veils fluttered around him, catching another of the sun’s rays to cast him and the diamonds on his face in light.***"We will do everything in our power to aid you in avoiding war, sire. As your sons, we swear it."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Me: *reads a book involving arranged marriages for lit class*  
My brain: Ooo look a concept!  
Me:  
My brain: LET'S WRITE IT  
Me:  
Me: ... We got, like, two essays due-  
My brain: WRITE IT. NOW. 
> 
> And that's how this was born. Don't expect much more out of it after this.
> 
> I don't own the characters, they belong to their rightful creators from the different transformer universes. Enjoy.

Plating was meticulously scrubbed clean, soaked in solvents that ran down each edge and curve in clear drips. With a soft rag, the drips and drops were rinsed away, leaving the spotless reflection of the bearer in its wake. Waxing came next, accompanied later with a scentless conditioner that would protect plating and wiring from rust. In small, shallow circles it was rubbed and smoothed into a flawless sheen.  
  
*

_"Welcome home my lord Prime. I trust your returning voyage was pleasant?"_  
  
_ The entrance hall of the palace echoed with the pleasant voice of a welcoming service bot. Sentinel Prime stepped in as the grand doors shut behind him, pushing the hood of his weathered cloak to his shoulders and nodding to the mini-bot at his side._  
  
_ "Yes it was, Tailgate. Thank you."_  
  
_ When the mini-bot held out his servos, the ruler gratefully shed the woven copper covering and handed it off. He flared his shoulder plating, letting the cool air in to soothe his wiring._  
  
_ "Sire, you've returned home!"_  
  
_ The joy radiating from his youngest son's EM field was so potent he could feel it from across the room. The weary blue optics of the elder Prime quickly brightened, and as he turned away from the door, he caught sight of the fiery red and orange mech at the top of the palace stairway. His silver lip plates curled up as Rodimus bounded down the steps, all courtesy protocols abandoned. Deep-chested laughter that rolled from his intake soon was derailed by a grunt when the young mech threw himself into his creator's arms, squeezing him tight._  
  
_"One of these cycles, you'll snap these worn limb struts of mine, Rodimus. Your strength grows with every passing klik!"_  
  
_ With a haughty huff, the young mech squeezed his creator one more time before pulling back._  
  
_ "All the more reason to hug you harder every time you have to leave!"_  
  
_ Sentinel laughed once more at his son's proclamation, patting him on the shoulder and wrapping his EM field around him. The touch of youth and rebellious energy could've physically sparked as it weaved around him, and with it he felt drawn back to life._  
  
_ "Hey now, how come no one bothered to tell me you were home? I would've prepared a celebration!"_  
  
_ Both mecha turned towards the new voice echoing from the stairway. Rodimus merely snickered at his older brother as he jogged down the stairs._  
  
_ "Because you would've invited half of Cybertron to the party and left this place a mess before sire even walked through the door."_  
  
_ Jazz's field quickly flipped into annoyance, and he flicked it at his sibling without sympathy._  
  
_ "Aw come on you know the last time that happened it wasn't my fault! It was supposed to be a small musical festival!"_  
  
_ "Which turned into a smash party after one of your friends decided to break out the high grade and call in the seekers."_  
  
_ The older mech threw out a servo and shoved his young sibling, which only drew a snort as their fields tugged and batted against each other. Sentinel only sighed, his smile only growing at the sight of his second creation.  
_  
_"Come now, Jazz. I need no celebration when you are here. You are the music to my audials."_  
  
_ At his creator's loving compliment, the white and black mech's visor brightened. Quickly forgetting his sibling's dispute, he hopped to the elder Prime to engulf him in a hug._  
  
_ "It's so good to see you sire!"_  
  
_ Their fields weaved into one another, enjoying the long sought familiarity. When they parted, Sentinel took up his creation’s servos._  
  
_ "And you as well. Do not worry, I'll be expecting a returning performance from you after dinner tonight."_  
  
_ The Prime winked an optic at his son, who bashfully averted his optics before his plating fluttered in excitement._  
  
_ "You got it!"_  
  
_ With that he let his creation's servos go, smiling contently at the both of them before looking up to the staircase once more._  
  
_ "Now then, where is your eldest brother? I'm sure he must have heard tale of my arrival by now-"_  
  
_ "He has, my Lord Prime."_  
  
_ At the sound of an old mech entering the hall, all three mecha looked away from the stairs. Instead their attention was drawn to the western corridor, leading in from palace library and its balconies. In strode the imposing figure of Alpha Trion, weathered red plating contrasted by his purple cape and easily towering over all. At his side followed the eldest son of the Prime, showing effortless grace as he moved beside the elder._  
  
_Sentinel's spark swelled as he met that gentle cerulean gaze for the first time in a decacycle._  
  
_ "Optimus."_  
  
_ Immediately, the young Prime's optics lit up. Without pause he removed the data pads he'd been carrying under his arm, handing them to the elder accompanying him before continuing to the entrance. Stopping a few paces short of his creator and siblings, he stooped in a royal bow, EM field poised and dignified._  
  
_ "Welcome home, sire."_  
  
_ At their father's side, Rodimus huffed in amusement, leaning to whisper "show off" into Jazz's audial and earning a light smack in return. Behind the red and blue mech, Alpha Trion nodded approvingly._  
  
_ "Well done, Optimus."_  
  
_ With that said, he suddenly turned a hard stare on Jazz and Rodimus._  
  
_ "Now if only your brothers would heed their greeting lessons instead of swamping their Lord."_  
  
_ Under his scrutiny, Jazz quickly averted his gaze and pretended to be occupied with the floor. Rodimus flinched and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, subtly side-stepping behind his sibling. Sentinel laughed once more, waving a servo at his advisor and mentor of his sons._  
  
_ "Let them be, Trion. I've been gone long enough, formalities can be excused for the time being."_  
  
_As he spoke, he turned to Optimus, leaning down to take ahold of his son's servo and help him rise once more. Like the sun overhead, the young Prime's optics glistened with emotion. Sentinel watched them as he lifted his other servo to tenderly cup his creation's faceplate._  
  
_ "You will soon put me to shame, my son. You hold yourself with all the elegance and sophistication of your carrier. Mark my words, when the time is right, you will make for a fine leader."_  
  
_ Optimus' field wavered at the mention of his and his brothers' other creator, unable to hold back a light gasp as the Prime gathered him in a hug. He immediately fell into it, pressing his field against the solid presence of the elder._  
  
_ "I've missed you."_  
  
_ Sentinel felt the purity of his eldest's care and love flow through his field. At long last, after so much time traveling the different city-states of Cybertron, he was home._  
  
_ "I've missed you too, Optimus."_  
  
*  
  
Wisps of the white veils fluttered with the incoming breeze. Like precious jewels, they shimmered in the sun's rays, casting a diamond-like reflection glittering over the floor. Soundlessly they writhed around their ethereal bearer, gliding weightlessly behind as he walked.  
  
*  
  
_"Ah, you've finally made it, my dear creations."_  
  
_ Sentinel spoke, looking up from the report he'd been reading with a raised metal brow and an amused grin as Jazz and Rodimus burst into his chambers. Optimus, who been reading his own data pad in a cushioned seat by the far window, was familiar enough with their 'grand entrances' to not pay it any mind. Their chest plates heaved, and they panted heavily from having sprinted through the palace to meet with their father at the time he'd designated. Jazz was the first to find his voice once more._  
  
_ "We extend our apologies sire! We would've been earlier, had Rodimus not forgotten to finish the history assessment Alpha Trion gave us to hand in next cycle."_  
  
_ The older sibling glared at Rodimus, who huffed as he threw his arms up._  
  
_ "I thought Alpha Trion said it was due in two cycles, not one!"_  
  
_ "You were supposed to mark down the due date when you got it Roddy! How did you get two out of one?!"_  
  
_ Sentinel sighed tiredly as they fought, fond exasperation flooding his field as he held up a servo to silence them._  
  
_ "Mistakes happen, my sons. It cannot be avoided. But that is why when they do, we must seek to correct them to the best of our ability. Is that understood?"_  
  
_ Finally bringing their ventilations under control, they both acknowledged their creator with a nod and simultaneous "Yes sire." The elder Prime's smile widened, and he took the chance to beckon them closer with a wave._  
  
_ "Come now, my creations. Please sit with me. Optimus, won't you join us as well?"  
_  
_Side-eyeing each other with similar curiosity, the young royals walked forward to settle on the couch across from their sire. Similarly, Optimus pulled his attention away from what he'd been reading, shutting off the data pad and placing it in his subspace. Rising from his corner of the room, he made his way towards the rest of his family, glancing over at Rodimus when his youngest brother furrowed his metal brows at him._  
  
_ "Wait, were you here the entire time?"_  
  
_ Jazz was quick to level a flat look at his brother. Optimus, in turn, raised a brow at him quietly. Then, in a rare show of humor, hummed as he lowered himself on the cushion beside Jazz._  
  
_ "Of course I was. I wouldn't have seen the scraplet on your ped if I wasn't."_  
  
_ "Ok fair enou--wait what?!"_  
  
_ Rodimus leapt off the couch, flinging himself backwards as he tried to grab ahold of his legs and rip off the sharp-toothed vermin that was surely chewing at him. When he stood still for more than a solid moment and realized there was no scraplet on him, it was his turn to level an unamused glare at his sibling._  
  
_ "Oh very funny, Optimus. Ha ha ha, absolutely hilarious."_  
  
_ The eldest of the Royal family merely watched him with innocent optics, while next to him the second eldest was trying valiantly not to burst into laughter. Snickers still escaped through the digits enclosed over his intake. Even Sentinel couldn't help a small chuckle at the display. But he soon collected himself, clearing his intake to get each of their attentions._  
  
_ "Now that we are all gathered, there are important matters which I'd like to speak with you about before any more time passes."  
_  
_The vocal inflections of their sire’s tone lowered in reference to the discussion ahead. Each of the three sons recycled their optics at it. He did not use that kind of tone with them often. Rather, he used it in the formal meetings and gatherings occasionally held in the palace when he was home. Rodimus’ curled lip plate thinned, and Jazz’s snide smirk fell away._  
  
_ "You know well that Iacon is one of the most prosperous city-states of Cybertron."_  
  
_ Instantly, the three of them nodded._  
  
_ "Well, yeah of course, sire. The academy and the Hall of Records has led us to be a center of knowledge for the entirety planet."_  
  
_ Jazz reiterated slowly, recalling their past cultural lessons. As he spoke, Optimus nodded in agreement before pitching in._  
  
_ "We owe the attainment of these records as well as the building of the academy to our allies, however. Without their aid, our prosperous age at this point would not have been possible."_  
  
_ Sentinel listened patiently to both of his sons as they spoke, inclining his helm once when they finished._  
  
_ "That is correct. And as such, you understand that we take great responsibility in harboring these alliances with the rest of the city-states. I must travel great lengths each vorn to assure fellow city-state leaders of our continued trust and support."_  
  
_ The Prime’s shoulders stooped, as if the weight of his words were physical. His EM field suddenly swirled with guilt as he met the gazes of his creations._  
_ "I know it is as hard for you to be left alone as it is for me to endure it. Since your carrier passed onto the Well, it can only have been harder. I only hope you know how regretful I am to have put you through it."  
_  
_As he spoke, his sons recycled their optics in surprise once more, glancing at each other with a long-shared grief that at one time, they dared not speak of in front of their sire. He was, after all, the leader of Iacon, and had important matters to attend to beside their own emotional stresses. But that did not mean he didn’t care, and they knew it._  
  
_ "... Aw sire, you don't need to worry about us."_  
  
_ Jazz began, staying seated where he was but stretching his field out to share warmth with his creator. Rodimus quickly grinned next to him._  
  
_ "Yeah, I mean, look at us! We're doing pretty good so far! Jazz and I get along much better than we used to, and Optimus usually keeps us in line."_  
  
_ The youngest Prime chirped, earning a small, saddened smile from their sire. Optimus’ spark flared at the sight, and he rose from where he sat next to his brothers. Crossing the space between them, he kneeled in front of the elder and gathered his worn servos._  
  
_ "Do not grieve for us, sire. We understand what you must do to ensure continuing alliances with the rest of Cybertron, and for you we endure."_  
  
_ Sentinel found the warm and gentle gaze of his eldest, and felt it soothe his aching spark. He took in a deep vent, squeezing Optimus’ servos gratefully. After another klik passed, he nodded to him in signal that he was fine, and his son respectfully backed away to retake his seat. As he walked back, the elder Prime spoke._  
  
_ "Be that as it may, I am sorry to relay to you that these past few trips I’ve taken haven't been as successful as they have in the past."_  
  
_All three of his sons were taken aback. Their sire rarely ever spoke of his trips to the other city-states unless directly asked. In those instances, it was rather to describe what the rest of the world was like to the young sparks that had never seen it. Rodimus tilted his helm curiously at the abrupt change in the conversation._  
  
_ "What do you mean?"_  
  
_ The ruler of Iacon heaved a burdened sigh. If it had been up to him, he wouldn’t be having this conversation with the beings he treasured most in this world. Growing as they were, they were still so young, and he would’ve given anything to shelter them from the cruel world they would soon enter. But there was no choice, and he forced the words from his intake._  
  
_ "Three of our allies: Praxus, Crystal City, and Kaon recently questioned the sincerity of our trust pacts and were not so easily swayed back into favorable opinion. Kaon came close to declaring war on us."_  
  
_ Instantaneously, all three of his son’s fields recoiled, a similar fear running through them like a flood of acid through the wastelands._  
  
_ "War?! Why?! What did we ever do to them?!"_  
  
_ The youngest exclaimed, confusion battling the fear within him and turning his field into a mess of emotions. Optimus, like an immovable stone amidst a stormy sea, straightened as he composed his field and swept it out to calm his brother._  
  
_ "Kaon is a naturally violent and distrustful city-state, Rodimus. Past offenses against them by other city-states have led them to build up their military and cut off all ties to the rest of the_ _planet. As of the present, they only hold three official trust pacts, Iacon included."_  
  
_"One."_  
  
_ Three helms turned towards the speaker, who couldn’t meet their optics as he corrected his eldest creation’s statement._  
  
_ "They now only hold one pact, with Iacon, which is on the verge of being redacted."_  
  
_ “Oh sire…”_  
  
_ Rodimus tried to rise, wanting to comfort him. But Optimus reached over and grasped his servo tightly, his field whipping around him disapprovingly. When the young Prime glared incredulously at his sibling, Optimus only shook his helm, quietly showing him that now was not the time. Before it had been a matter of familial grief, this was different. These were matters of official Iaconian business and should be treated as such. Rodimus grumbled and sat back down, subtly leaning back into Optimus’ servo that tenderly stroked over his backplates._  
  
_ "Isn't there anything we can do to regain the trust of these city-states? To avoid the loss of lives and energon-shed?"_  
  
_ It was then that the elder Prime finally lifted his helm, meeting the optics of his sons._  
  
_ "There is, and I'm afraid you won't like what I'm about to ask of you."_  
  
_ Jazz and Rodimus exchanged an incredulous glance, before the middle sibling spoke out first._  
  
_ "Of us?"_  
  
_"What can we do? We can't negotiate for peace! I can't even get my history assessments completed on time!"_  
  
_ “Jazz, Rodimus.”_  
  
_ Optimus vented quietly, his field wrapping around his siblings so tightly they had no choice but to look back at him. His cerulean optics bore into their sparks, pleaded with them to hear their sire out. This was clearly hard enough for him to do without their protests, they owed him the chance to speak this one request and be heard. With that understanding spread between them, they quieted and looked back towards Iacon’s ruler. Optimus politely spoke for all of them._  
  
_ "We will do everything in our power to aid you in avoiding war, sire. As your sons, we swear it."_  
  
_ The elder Prime could only thank Primus for his eldest’s compassion and grace to him. After this, he did not know whether it would last. With another deep vent, he straightened himself to make the proclamation official._  
  
_ "... I proposed to each leader of the city-states that we strengthen our pacts through bonding unions. They accepted."_  
  
_ Following his statement, silence filled the room. Jazz furrowed his metal brows and Rodimus blinked, both of their fields filling again with confusion. Optimus, however, withdrew his field completely out of reach of his siblings as his optics darkened and his lip plates thinned. He pulled his servo away from around the mecha at his side, and they glanced at him in bewilderment, wondering if he knew something they didn’t._  
  
_ Rodimus was the first to break the silence._  
  
_ "... Uh, what does that mean?"  
_  
_With the unending patience of a weathered leader and creator, Sentinel broke the silence next._  
  
_ "It means, Rodimus, that I am asking all of you to bond with the leaders of each city-state to avoid war."_  
  
*  
  
Silver bands held the veil to its bearer's wrists, looping beneath his arm strut to reach up and attach to his shoulder joints, elbow joints, and back plates by silver magnets. Each magnet shone with the pristine glint of a polish and drawn upon them was the crest of Iacon's royal family: the ancient Matrix of Leadership.  
  
*  
  
_"He can't seriously expect us to go through with this!"_  
  
_ Jazz, who’s helm rested atop the knees he’d drawn up to his chest, watched silently from the end of his berth as Rodimus paced in front of him. His younger brother’s field flared and whipped about in anguish and anger._  
  
_ "Bond?! With mecha we don't even know?! It's outrageous!!"_  
  
_ The middle sibling would’ve agreed, had he possessed the voice to do so. But there was nothing left for him to say. It had all been released in retaliating shouts and denying screams at his sire before he’d stormed out of the room. It was un-Prime-like of him, disgraceful and absolutely insolent. What would Alpha Trion have said? What would Optimus have said had he even spoken?_  
  
_ Whatever it was, he didn’t care. There were many things he would’ve done for the sake of his city-state. This was not one of them. But it’s not like he’d been given the choice to refuse._  
  
_ “Never once before this did sire ever breach the subject of bonding! It was the one thing we were never even allowed to speak of! And now suddenly out of the blue, he wants to give us away to these leaders who don’t even trust him!”_  
  
_ At the harsh reminder, Jazz inaudibly flinched, momentarily turning his helm away from Rodimus to instead stare at the door. It was open a crack, something he numbly remembered shouldn’t be so because his younger brother had closed it on his way in. The answer as to why, soon came to be a cerulean gaze peeking through the small crack, watching him and Rodimus. He watched solemnly as Optimus’ gaze focused on him, and they met each other for a solid klik._  
  
_“—not to mention the blatant fact that he expects one of us to bond with the leader of Kaon!! You heard what Optimus said! Whichever one of us he chooses may as well just forget the bonding and put a blaster to their spark. He’ll surely just want our helm on a pike!”_  
  
_ Cerulean blue optics shuttered. Jazz knew his older brother well enough that it had come to the point he could listen no more. In the blink of an optic, Optimus was gone, the door silently clicking closed behind him. If his reaction was anything to go by, then Jazz already knew which of them would be bonded to Kaon’s ruler. Curling in on himself further, he buried his helm in his knees and choked on a sob as his spark broke._  
  
_ He didn’t want to be the eldest._  
  
*  
  
With great care, the diamonds were applied to their faceplate. Three in the shape of teardrops were placed beside the optics, rounded ends pointed towards the audials. Around the edges of the jaw, tiny and circular, five more were placed in linear fashion on each side. At each end of the helm crest, traveling beside the center ridge of the helm, more of these rounded gems sparkled as they became the bearer’s ornaments.  
  
*  
  
_The gardens of the palace were a quiet place of peace, where the energon vines climbed so high they claimed the columns of the balcony. All around the winding pathways did these vines and crystals glow, providing a guiding light to the garden’s only occupant._

_When he could not focus enough to read his favorite legends, when he could not find sanctuary in the library, Optimus always came here. Sometimes he wandered aimlessly, content to let his processor drift as the glow of life surrounded him. Sometimes he found a dead end, spread a thermal blanket over the ground and simply lay back to watch the stars._

_This cycle, he did neither._

_This cycle he walked swiftly among each path, following the twists and turns to reach the other end. If anyone heard his steps, he did not care. There was no beauty in the affliction he felt, no delicacy in the toiling emotions of his field. There were points he’d broken into a run, whether to reach his destination faster or to escape his own fate, he did not know. But he ran all the same, abandoning royal protocol where no one would see._

_Near the end of the great palace gardens a fountain stood in the middle of five connecting pathways. Draped and wrapped in glowing vines as it spewed dark oil, the structure was as regal and omniscient in the night as it looked grand in the day. Optimus slid to an abrupt halt when he reached it. Silently, he stared at it for a few moments, acknowledging the ancient relic that had been in these gardens so long even Alpha Trion had once wandered by it as a sparkling._

_Time seemed to slow in those moments. With careful, hesitant steps did the eldest son of the Prime continue around the fountain, nervous energy tangling into his field as he walked beyond the ancient structure. Behind it, he ducked underneath the lone arch overgrown with luminescent crystals._  
  
_ For the first time in a long time, he gazed upon his other creator._  
  
_ Upon her pedestal she still danced, just as he remembered. She stood on one ped, the other raised and bent behind her as her arm struts stretched out and up at her sides. Helm tiled up towards the stars, an eternal smile was etched into her faceplates. Beneath her, the plaque made from her metal and etched with her runes still glowed a deep shade of blue._  
  
_ The epiphany of elegance. The jewel of Iacon. The consort of the Prime._  
  
_ Optimus vented shakily, approaching her statue as coolant welled in his optics._  
  
_ “Hello, carrier.”_  
  
_ He whispered, gazing at her stone body. He recalled how she’d looked when she twirled and waltzed in the palace halls, her laughter so full of light and joy it used to fill every corner._  
  
_ “… I know I promised you that I would not return here again, not unless it was dire.”_  
  
_Without pause, he kneeled at her pedestal’s side, staring at her plaque as his vision grew evermore blurred and distorted from tears._  
  
_ “Three of our allies have turned against us. They threaten to break the pacts, Kaon means to declare war-!”_  
  
_ He gasped as he spoke, finally feeling the coolant slip from his optics and stream down his faceplates._  
  
_ “Sire intends to have all of us bond with each leader to solidify trust through union… If it were only me, I would take on such responsibility without thought.”_  
  
_ Cold stone met his shoulder. Optimus hadn’t even realized he was now leaning against her._  
  
_ “But, Jazz and Rodimus… They’ve only just become adults, they’re still so young with so much to learn! I’ve tried to look after them, teach them like you asked, but there’s only so much I can do!”_  
  
_ Crumbling against the pedestal, the young Prime’s helm met the carved stone with a small clunk._  
  
_ “… I won’t be there to take care of them much longer, carrier. And I fear that my union to Kaon’s leader may be my last cycles alive.”_  
  
_ For a long time after, Optimus could not speak. All of the pain he’d held back for so many vorns spilled over and flowed through him. He choked on the sobs that wracked his frame, shaking as he clutched his chest plates in agony._  
  
_ When he finally regained enough control, the young Prime lifted a servo and placed it over the plaque, the metal beneath cold and lifeless, but familiar._  
  
_“If I can find no solace in life any longer… I will find solace in that I will see you again soon in the Well.”_  
  
_ With a final sigh, Optimus let his servo fall away, turning to rise and leave his carrier’s final resting place in peace._  
  
_ Glimpsing up at the pathway before him, he suddenly found himself in front of the old mech whom had mentored him and his brothers since their sparkling cycles._  
  
_ “M-My Lord Alpha Trion!”_  
  
_ He stuttered, momentarily frozen stiff in shock. The old mech simply watched him, expression unreadable. Embarrassment quickly welled in his field and he stumbled to his peds, trying viciously to wipe away the coolant streaks littering his face with his arm strut. Clumsily he bowed, trying to pull in his heavy and sorrow-soaked field._  
  
_ “Please excuse my momentary lapse of manners! I was just about to return to my chambers for recharge—”_  
  
_ “Hush.”_  
  
_ The elder mech interrupted him, and he quickly closed his intake, bowing his helm shamefully. How long had his mentor been standing there? How much had he heard? Most likely, enough to criticize him for the rest of his life cycles. Regret swelled in his spark, cursing him for abandoning protocol instead of getting the rest he would need to face these next few cycles._  
  
_ Ped steps came closer and he tensed, waiting for the lash or the verbal discipline he’d received when he disobeyed protocol as a sparkling. Instead, he felt two digits placed under his jaw, lifting it so that he met the deep worry within his mentor’s optics._  
  
_“Your lapse is excused, Optimus.”_  
  
_ Optimus recycled his optics, feeling more coolant slip down his plating. He mentally cursed it, his optics once again averting in embarrassment. But Alpha Trion did not comment on it, merely lifting a thumb to wipe away the wet streaks. The gesture startled him, and he forced himself to not jerk away, instead staring with wide optics. It was the kindest gesture he’d ever received from the old mech._  
  
_ “I believe you had the right idea, however.”_  
  
_ Alpha Trion’s servo suddenly fell away as he looked around at the crystal vines underneath the stars, humming admiringly at their view._  
  
_ “The gardens are quite lovely this cycle. I thought I’d take a late night stroll to appreciate them.”_  
  
_ The young Prime’s optics contracted, instead coming to favor a raised brow as confusion and light suspicion dotted his field. Alpha Trion never stayed out this late, that he knew from vorns of experience. After the sun fell, he always walked the palace halls once before retiring to berth, always taking a klik to stop by his and his brothers’ chambers to look in and be sure they were in recharge._  
  
_ Optimus had not been there tonight. He was sure that Alpha Trion must’ve walked the library before coming here._  
  
_ His thoughts were interrupted when the elder then held out an elbow towards him._  
  
_ “Won’t you join me, Optimus? I could use the company.”_  
  
_Glancing silently between the elder’s elbow and face, his field swirled with indecision. About half a klik later, he finally found it in him to speak._  
  
_ “But… Pardon, my lord, but shouldn’t we retire for recharge?”_  
  
_ He asked timidly. Alpha Trion hummed in acknowledgement of the question, nodding as he thought about it. However, in the end, he merely shook his helm at he gazed at the young mech beside him._  
  
_ “I do not believe I am so ready to let such a rare opportunity go to waste. Nor do I think you’re ready to return to your chambers yet, are you?”_  
  
_ Stilling where he stood, the young Prime was so taken aback by the question that protocol was abandoned again in favor of thinking it over. And truth be told, he already knew the answer._  
  
_ “… No, I do not think I am.”_  
  
_ He spoke quietly, averting his optics once more. Not a moment passed by before he suddenly felt the all-encompassing, comforting field of his mentor surround him. When he looked up once more, he found the elder’s soft smile pointed at him._  
  
_ “Walk with your old mentor tonight, Optimus. I have the feeling we won’t receive this opportunity for much longer.”_  
  
_ This time, he only hesitated for a moment. Then, he grasped his mentor’s elbow, letting himself be led away from his carrier and into the sanctuary of the gardens._  
  
*  
  
Step forward, step lightly. Shoulders back, optics up, look straight ahead. Hold oneself with poise, bow to another with respect, walk amongst others with dignity. Within closed chambers, the bearer practiced their movements, unwilling to falter under any and all circumstances. Remember the greeting, rehearse the greeting. Speak fluently and quietly. Hold oneself tall no matter the reactions to be received.  
  
*

_“You called for me, my Lord Prime?”_

_Sentinel turned around from where he watched out the window, watching absently as his advisor approached._

_“Yes, I did.”_

_He spoke, his gaze dropping away and returning to the window. Stopping a few paces behind him, Alpha Trion looked out as well, eyeing the mini-bots and servants who went about their business below. Patiently he waited, feeling the Prime’s rigidly constraint field and knowing, like his eldest creation, he’d need a moment to return to the present._

_“… Did I make the right decision, Trion?”_

_The old mech turned his gaze upon Iacon’s ruler, who in turn looked to him. His optics were pained and lost, reminiscent of the cycles following the loss of his consort._  
  
_ “Was this the right thing to do?”_

_Alpha Trion thought upon his question silently for a moment, before rotating his gaze back through the window._  
  
_ “I cannot judge a decision without seeing it’s full consequences, my lord.”_  
  
_ The Prime whirled on his advisor in a flare of short temper._  
  
_ “Then judge it based on the consequences you have seen! Give me an answer Trion!!”_  
  
_He snapped, his sharp bark slicing through the hall. Alpha Trion did not react at first, leading the Prime to stop and recollect himself, intaking a few long vents._  
  
_ “… I am sorry, Trion. Please pardon my loss of temper.”_  
  
_ A klik of silence followed, one Alpha Trion only broke when he knew the Prime was calm once more._  
  
_ “You worry for your creations. It is to be expected.”_  
  
_ Sentinel nodded wearily, rolling his shoulders to keep them from falling forward under the weight of his responsibilities. He was taken off-guard when his advisor spoke once more._  
  
_ “I believe, that for the well-being of our city-state, you made the right choice… But for the well-being of your family, you could’ve made better.”_  
  
_ The old mech stated in utmost honesty, not about to let his own opinion be thrown to the wayside either. Sentinel barely withheld a huff of indignance similar to those of Rodimus._  
  
_ “The Lords of Praxus and Crystal City were ready to smash the very data pads containing our pacts! The Lord of Kaon held me at gunpoint when I argued! What other choice did I have?!”_  
  
_ “None.”_  
  
_ Alpha Trion stated it with such absoluteness that it caught the Prime off-guard, causing him to stare at his advisor with wide optics._  
  
_“You were given none, and therefore could offer your creations none. Whether or not they’d been involved in the situation, union was the only option any leader would’ve accepted in their stead. The only way they wouldn’t have to through this, is if they’d been born to regular citizens.”_  
  
_ Realizing he was right, Sentinel’s expression fell to indifference, and he hummed to acknowledge his begrudging agreement._  
  
_ “Jazz and Rodimus. They are still so young…”_  
  
_ “They are smart mecha, Sentinel, and will learn the ways of their new city-states. Each leader will be courteous of their consort’s background and will see to it that they settle into their new role. It is the demand of tradition.”_  
  
_ Alpha Trion stated plainly, reminding Iacon’s ruler of what he already knew to offer some semblance of comfort. He was then surprised the EM field beside him went rigid once more. When he looked, he found Sentinel’s expression had considerably darkened._  
  
_ “Kaon will only follow tradition if it so pleases them.”_  
  
_ He grated out, also reminding the advisor of what he would already know._  
  
_ “Their lord is insufferably hard to please and easy to anger. None of my sons deserve to be bonded to that monster, especially not Optimus.”_  
  
_ With the mention of the eldest’s name, Alpha Trion was instantly subjected to the memory of his kind student, crumbled at the base of his carrier’s statue and waiting for death. His shoulders dropped by a minute fraction, an action the Prime did not see. Closing his optics to silently compose himself, he only spoke when he knew he would not waver._  
  
_“My Lord Prime, I firmly believe that if there was anyone who could soothe the Lord of Kaon’s temper enough to be reasonable, it would be Optimus.”_  
  
_ Sentinel’s dark anger faded as his advisor spoke, and when he gazed upon him once more, he found nothing but sincerity in the other’s optics. A pair of compassionate and loving cerulean optics came to the forefront of his processor, and he smiled minutely._  
  
_ “My Lord Prime!”_  
  
_ Tailgate’s voice flittered through the hall behind them, and both mecha turned from the window to see the mini-bot sprinting towards them, panting as he bowed low._  
  
_ “Pardon me, my lords! But the leaders of Praxus, Crystal City, and Kaon are arriving! Their ships are landing as we speak!”_  
  
_ Sentinel Prime and Alpha Trion exchanged a knowing glance before Iacon’s ruler nodded to the mini-bot._  
  
_ “Thank you, Tailgate. I will be there momentarily to greet them. Please see to it that the entranceway is cleared for us.”_  
  
_ “Yes my lord!”_  
  
_ The mini-bot quickly acknowledged before bowing and sprinting away once more. The Iaconian ruler heaved a great sigh, glancing at his advisor with a pinched expression. Alpha Trion almost smirked in amusement at it._  
  
_ “You heard the mini-bot, my Lord. Go greet your guests.”_  
  
_ This time, the Prime did not withhold his annoyed huff._  
  
_“Don’t lecture me, Trion. I’ve been through enough of your lessons—”_  
  
_ “JAZZ?! JAZZ?!”_  
  
_ A loud shout suddenly shattered the quiet of the palace interior. Both elder mecha jumped and looked up at the stairway, surprised to see Rodimus sprinting from one end of the second floor’s hall to the other._  
  
_ “JAZZ?!?”_  
  
_ “What?! Why are you shouting?!”_  
  
_ “HAVE YOU SEEN MY POLISH?? I CAN’T FIND IT!”_  
  
_ “I don’t fragging know where you put your polish!! Don’t you dare think you’re using mine!!”_  
  
_ Simultaneously, Alpha Trion and Sentinel exchanged wary expressions, listening as they launched into a full-blown argument, accompanied by something fragile crashing beyond their line of sight._  
  
_ “THAT WAS NOT ME!”_  
  
_ “Oh for the love of Primus, why don’t you just go pester Optimus about it?! I’m sure he’ll know where it is!”_  
  
_ There was a heavy pause before the youngest Prime’s voice picked back up._  
  
_ “OH YEAH GOOD POINT! RACE YOU!”_  
  
_ “Hey wait a klik—That’s mine!! Rodimus give me back my sapphires! RODIMUS!!”_  
  
_Another crash echoed over the stairway, and Alpha Trion could only sigh in frustration as the youngest Primes ran back across the second floor, one of them bent on murdering the other. Sentinel smiled sadly at the display, already knowing how much he was going to miss it._  
  
*  
  
There came a knock at the door of his chambers, catching the bearer’s attention.  
  
“HEY OPTIMUS! HAVE YOU SEEN MY POLISH??”  
  
Rodimus’ yell pounded at his audials.  
  
“Roddy, for the love of Primus, stop shouting! And give those _back!!”_  
  
Jazz’s voice followed, not as loud but far angrier. Optimus stopped himself from rolling his optics, focusing instead on adjusting the silver band around his wrist strut.  
  
“I have not seen your polish, Rodimus. However, if you promise not to break the container, you can use mine.”  
  
He spoke evenly. From the other side of the door came a whoop.  
  
“Sweet! I’m coming in, where is it?”  
  
Neither of his brothers wasted time bounding into his chambers, Jazz grumbling as he stuck the sapphires in his servo to the edges of his visor.  
  
“On the shelf. It’s the clear bottle.”  
  
Rodimus swept by at a jog, the trail of his gold and red veils whipping behind him. Rubies dotted the edges of his faceplates, with one especially large jewel put over his chest plates. It was striking, borderline-obnoxious in decorations, and undoubtedly Rodimus. Jazz, meanwhile, had decided on teal and blue veils sweeping over his shoulders to counter his colors and accent his visor, with sapphires looped in swirls over his audials and faceplates. Flamboyant, but fashionable and fitting Jazz in every way. Optimus couldn’t help the small smile that crossed his faceplates as he watched them from his corner in the room.  
  
“Jazz, Rodimus, you look rather dashing. I am impressed.”  
  
Both of his brothers paused, unused to compliments from their eldest sibling that had raised them up to this point. Jazz bashfully blushed, turning on a heel to properly look at him.  
  
“Aw thank you Op—Oh my Primus…”  
  
Jazz halted where he stood, his visor lighting up bright as he stared at the red and blue mech. Rodimus, who heard his brother’s exclamation, spun around from where he’d just grabbed the polish. When he locked optics with their eldest sibling, his jaw dropped.  
  
“… What?”  
  
Optimus asked with a raised metal brow, swiveling to face them, his white veil shimmering around him as it followed. After staring for a solid klik, Jazz reached a servo under Rodimus’ hanging jaw and snapped it shut without looking. It snapped the youngest out of his trance, and he bounded up and down.  
  
“YOU LOOK INCREDIBLE! HOW DO YOU LOOK SO INCREDIBLE?!”  
  
“Are those diamonds around your optics?!”  
  
They both swamped him, marveling at the way he’d prepared for their meeting today with their destined partners. At their excitement he smiled, but simply shrugged as he finished fixing the silver crest and veil magnetized to his elbow.  
  
“Kaoni tradition favors diamonds for decoration. I decided to follow a theme of silver and white, as their city-state finds most of it’s profit from mining elemental metals.”  
  
Recycling their optics at him, Rodimus snorted and crossed his arms over his chest plates.  
  
“Only you would actually do _research_ before picking out what to wear. I think my colors are great, so I’ll show ‘em off!”  
  
The youngest Prime spun and struck a pose to prove his point. Jazz rolled his optics at him in exasperation.  
  
“I will not miss your annoying aft when this is all done and over with.”  
  
He then turned back to his elder sibling, gathering the other’s servos in his own.  
  
“You look absolutely dazzling, Optimus. If you don’t knock that fragger from Kaon to his knees, he’s obviously not Cybertronian.”  
  
It was Optimus’ turn to be bashful, his field flushing shyly before wrapping around his brother affectionately.  
  
“Thank you, Jazz.”  
  
Jazz flashed a sideways smile back. Over by the shelf, Rodimus pretended to retch.  
  
“Ugh, get a room guys! All this mushy brotherly love is making me sick!”  
  
He whined, making the others laugh.  
  
That’s when another knock sounded from outside the door, effectively silencing all three of them.  
  
“Optimus? It’s Alpha Trion, may I enter?”  
  
Immediately, Rodimus adamantly shook his helm, pleading his eldest sibling to say no. Optimus tried not to laugh as he replied to their mentor.  
  
“Of course. Please come in, my lord.”  
  
As the door opened, he found himself subjected to the heated glare of his brother, one that he returned a raised brow at seamlessly. When Alpha Trion closed the door behind him, their expressions leveled. The old mech hummed as he looked them all over.  
  
“So this is where you two troublemakers retreated to.”  
  
He muttered, glancing between Jazz and Rodimus pointedly. The youngest Prime huffed.  
  
“Hey! I couldn’t find my polish! Optimus let me borrow his!”  
  
“And Roddy stole my sapphires!”  
  
Glancing back at the eldest Prime in the room, all the old mentor received was a helpless shrug of red shoulders. Humming once more, he scanned over all of their appearances, nodding to himself.  
  
“Well, you all cleaned up nice. Your suitors should find you aesthetically pleasing, at the least.”  
  
“Geez. That’s cold, mech.”  
  
Jazz stated irritably, earned another pointed glare.  
  
“Address your elders properly, Jazz.”  
  
With that, Alpha Trion sighed, pinching his nasal ridge in two digits before lifting his helm to speak to them once more.  
  
“I’ve come to inform you three that city-state leaders have arrived. They’re in the hall at the bottom of the stairwell, waiting on your entrance.”  
  
At once, the mood in the room shifted. Alpha Trion felt it like the way a cloud would shift over the sun, any lingering joy turning to apprehension, gloom, and fear.  
  
“… They are?”  
  
Jazz questioned quietly, receiving a single nod in return.  
  
“Which means that you are expected in the hall.”  
  
The elder spoke with finality, turning back on a heel towards the door.  
  
“… Now?”  
  
Rodimus inquired next. Alpha Trion sighed shortly.  
  
“Yes. Now.”  
  
*  
  
In total, eight mecha stood at the bottom of the stairwell. Sentinel stood in the middle of them all, conversing quietly with the leader of Praxus and his advisor, whose door wings twitched as they talked. To their left, and listening in from their distance, stood the leader of Crystal City with his own advisor, who managed to look crankier than Alpha Trion. To the right, standing the farthest away, were the leader and advisor of Kaon. Neither of them looked particularly pleased as they convered with one another. Wandering between all of their legs, Tailgate carried a tray of energon cubes, offering them politely.  
  
Rodimus slowly pulled back from where he’d peeked around the corner to see them, looking back at his brothers with frantic optics.  
  
“Ok, but seriously, there’s a bot down there with two _giant_ blades attaches to his back! Please tell me I’m not being paired off with that one!”  
  
He whispered loudly. Alpha Trion resisted the urge to slap a servo over his faceplates.  
  
“Hush, Rodimus. You’ll see soon enough. Here, you’ll be first.”  
  
Alpha Trion held out his elbow to the young Prime, whose stare turned incredulous.  
  
“Wait a minute, why am I first?! And why do I have to be escorted??”  
  
Jazz and Optimus exchanged optical glances as their mentor sighed and prayed for patience.  
  
“Because you are the youngest, Rodimus. When multiple creations of one’s royal family are to be bonded, it is customary that the youngest be presented first. And, if necessary, have an escort. As your mentor, I deem it necessary.”  
  
Leveling a frustrated glare at the old mech, Rodimus grumbled under his vents as he grabbed his elbow.  
  
“I hate this.”  
  
“_Hush_ and remember to keep your shoulders back and optics up.”  
  
Before their youngest sibling could get another word out, Alpha Trion walked out to the stairway. Huddling against the wall, Jazz and Optimus peeked out as they reached the top of the stairs, attracting the attention of all mecha below.  
  
“Ah, here they arrive!”  
  
Sentinel proclaimed proudly, stepping away from the door-winged mechs to stand at the bottom of the stairs.  
  
“Well then, my son, why don’t you join us?”  
  
The Prime beckoned, nodding once to Alpha Trion. Rodimus barely vented where he stood, and when the old mentor began to descend the stairs, his brothers could see how rigid and anxious his movements were. He almost stumbled a little over halfway down, from their vantage points both of his brothers froze, only releasing the air they held when Alpha Trion kept him upright. Clearly, he’d been right, Rodimus definitely needed an escort.  
  
“My fellow lordships, may I present to you my youngest, Rodimus Prime.”  
  
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, the youngest Prime bowed his helm in respect to the rulers surrounding him. It was most quiet and well-behaved his family had ever seen him. For a long moment, nobody below moved, and the silence in that moment was as deafening as a crowded room.  
  
But then, the lord to the far left stepped forward, the blades on his back glinting as he eyed the young mech curiously. Alpha Trion stepped away as he stepped forth, causing Rodimus to finally look up in brief startlement. When their optics locked, the leader’s lip plate curled into a small smile, and he bowed to him.  
  
“Greetings Rodimus, son of the Primes. I am Drift, Lord and Leader of Crystal City.”  
  
Rodimus’ expression morphed into something that somehow combined incredulousness, fear, and wonder all in one. It was a surprise that he was even able to respond.  
  
“… Hi—I, uh, I mean—!”  
  
He stumbled, almost feeling Alpha Trion’s optics glaring holes into his back.  
  
“… I am honored to meet you, Lord Drift.”  
  
With that he bowed, managing to do so without losing his balance. Looking up again, he was relieved to find Lord Drift didn’t seem to mind his slip up. If anything, he seemed charmed by him.  
  
From their vantage point at the top of the stairs, Jazz snickered and chortled.  
  
“Looks like he got Lord Blades anyway!”  
  
He leaned back against the wall, trying not to give himself away while Optimus merely shook his helm with a smile.  
  
“Now then, I’m sure your siblings can’t be far behind. Jazz? Come on now, don’t be shy!”  
  
His name was called, and the entirety of his joy fell away. Looking back at Optimus, he silently pleaded for help, whether it be any advice he had left to give or simply throwing him out the window to avoid this meeting. In response, his brother smiled reassuringly at him, pushing him forward towards their sire’s call. Jazz tip-toed to the edge, peeked out once more, and then puffed a deep vent. With his shoulders rolled back, he stepped out into view, walking to the rail before turning and descending. Optimus could only silently praise him as he kept a tight hold to keep himself from falling, his normally free-going field restrained tightly by anxiety. Below him, the sturdily-built white mech from Praxus watched with rapt optics as Jazz reached the bottom of the stairs, his door wings flicking.  
  
“I present to you my second eldest, Jazz Prime.”  
  
“… Jazz.”  
  
The lord said it carefully, as if he were tasting it. The blue-veiled son immediately lifted his helm as the white door-winged mech approached him without pause, as if afraid another would be first to claim him. Watching him with guarded optics, Jazz tensed where he stood when the lord took his servo and bowed low.  
  
“It is a delight to meet you, Jazz of the Primes. I am Prowl, lord and leader of Praxus.”  
  
He purred, his door wings folding back as he placed a kiss on the back of his servo. Jazz could only smile bashfully, dipping into a polite bow to show his respect for the title.  
  
“You honor me, Lord Prowl. It is a delight to meet you as well.”  
  
Prowl’s smile only widened, and as he gathered both of Jazz’s servos into his own, his brothers knew that they’d already hit it off. Sentinel’s spark warmed at the sight of it, taking solace in that Jazz would most certainly be happy, before he turned towards the last lord. A raised, skeptical optical brow was thrown in his direction, clearly unimpressed by what he’d seen so far, and Sentinel fought down the wave of anger that welled in his spark. Throwing on a fearless smile, he inclined his helm in apology.  
  
“As much of a delight it has been to see all else, I know you’ve waited long enough, my lord. In thanks for your patience, I present to you my eldest: Optimus Prime.”  
  
A flash of panic whipped down his spinal strut, but he quickly dismissed it, shuttering his optics and pulling in a small vent. _Step forward, step lightly. Shoulders back, optics up, look straight ahead. Hold oneself with poise, bow to another with respect, walk amongst others with dignity._ Cerulean blue optics opened once more, and he set his shoulders straight as he strode into view, falling into a controlled pace. As he stopped at the top of the stairs, his white veils fluttered around him, catching another of the sun’s rays to cast him and the diamonds on his face in light.  
  
Sentinel looked up once before doing a subtle double take, his optics widening with awe and pride as he took in his eldest son’s ethereal appearance. Jazz and Rodimus shared a small smirk with each other as they gazed upon him, if not a little a jealous that he would always be the most graceful out of the three of them.  
  
The lord of Kaon, unlike Sentinel Prime, was not so subtle in his reactions. As Optimus descended the stairs with a servo skimming the rail, he watched from the corner of his optic as the enormous silver war-frame stepped forward. Armor-bulked arms dropped from where they’d been crossed over a massive chest, and with a small prickle of nervousness he caught glimpse of the cannon built into his right forearm. The lord’s helm sported sharp points extending beyond the chin, but the danger of those points deeply contrasted the slackened expression he now portrayed. Brilliant crimson red optics showed no malice nor anger in that moment, and the unconsciously opened jaw showed, in a humbled way, how taken aback he’d become.  
  
Harboring hope that this was a good reaction, Optimus halted at the bottom of the stairs, looking into the crimson optics of the lord with stolen confidence. Kaoni tradition ruled, after all, that bonded partners should always be able to look each other in the optic.  
  
He must’ve noticed this, for after half a klik his expression smoothed out into one accompanying a small, absent-minded smile. When he walked forward, Optimus matched his footsteps, determined to show confidence as well as an acknowledgement of the lord’s culture. With their continued isolation, not many understood it. They met in the middle their chosen path, and only then did the Kaoni leader look away from his face, optics instead trailing over his veils and crests that adorned him.  
  
“… White and silver… A fine choice of shades to ornament oneself with.”  
  
Off to the side, Jazz and Rodimus recycled their optics in confusion. He hadn’t even introduced himself yet. Wasn’t that the way it always went? Optimus, however, took it in stride. Kaon only followed tradition if it so pleased them.  
  
“Simplicity proves to be beauty in a world of chaotic colors… Your city-state admires the elemental metals as its high-ranking products of trade, does it not?”  
  
The Kaoni leader’s helm whipped back up to meet the optics of the mech before him, crimson optics briefly flicking to the sparkling diamonds once more. Optimus felt the rough EM field around the lord echo with hints of shock. And if he dare mention it, awe. After another moment, the silver war frame collected himself enough to nod in affirmation.  
  
“Yes, it does… How kindly considerate of you to acknowledge our customs with such propriety.”  
  
The statement came off of his glossa sounding all the more surprised, if not the slightest bit suspicious that this was all in good intentions. In response, the young Prime looked up into his optics, abandoning courtesy protocol to open his field and brush it against the other and show his sincerity. Kaonians were more open to exchanges through their fields, after all.  
  
“All ways of life upon Cybertron are sacred to me, my lord. I feel it a harsh insult to dismiss the vital customs of one’s culture simply because we do not know them.”  
  
It was like flipping a switch. At his show of open honesty and compassion, all traces of suspicion disappeared. What remained, instead, was the return of that absent-minded smile and the awe that swirled in his field.  
  
“Wisely spoken, and well put, Optimus Prime. I suppose in observance of such, I should take this time to consider yours.”  
  
Then, in compliance of Iacon’s ritual and in the dignified manner of the ancient rulers, the Kaoni leader took a gentle hold of Optimus’ servo within his clawed digits and fell onto one knee. Crossing his other fisted servo over his chest, he bowed his helm in a show of reverence.  
  
“Greetings to you, Optimus, son of the Primes. I am Megatron, Lord and Leader of Kaon.”  
  
With utmost care, did he press a kiss to the back of his servo, his sharp denta sheltered behind his lip plates. As tradition now demanded of him, the eldest son of the Prime bowed himself low in a show of his respect.  
  
“I am honored to meet you, Lord Megatron.”  
  
He spoke softly as those crimson optics rose to meet his.  
  
“And I,” Megatron rumbled, rising once more to stand so close their frames almost brushed, “am enchanted to meet you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today was my birthday. You know what I wanted? To update a fic. So look, I updated something. Enjoy.

“_Primus below_, Prowl was fraggin’ handsome!”  
  
Jazz sighed, throwing the teal veils off his shoulders and flopping back on Optimus’ berth.  
  
“But mech, he was so serious at first, trying to converse with him was like talking to the wall. It was _really_ awkward.”  
  
“Is he related to Drift, then? Cause that’s basically what I endured the entire cycle.”  
  
Rodimus groused, his expression pinching as he sat cross-legged in front of his eldest brother’s mirror and pulled the rubies off his faceplates. Optimus was taken by mild surprise when Jazz rolled over on his front and shifted to lean off the edge of the berth, his expression suddenly becoming thrilled.  
  
“No, cause then he asked if I liked music! After that, mech, we talked for _groons_ on the balcony. He knows so many classical and theatrical pieces, it’s insane! And get this, he asked if he could hear me sing next cycle! I already know which one to perform!”  
  
He babbled giddily. Optimus couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lip plates as he carefully brushed the wrinkles out of the veils he’d hung next to the window. Looking over his shoulder at his young siblings, he caught a glimpse of Rodimus rolling his optics at his brother’s reflection.  
  
“Let me guess: that sappy, depressing opera song you sing at _every_ ball sire puts on.”  
  
He drawled. Jazz threw an exasperated glare right back at the youngest Prime in the room.  
  
“Don’t hate on my music, Roddy! It’s a refined classic from one of the most iconic theatric performances Iacon ever produced!”  
  
Rodimus groaned, plucking the last ruby off his faceplate and letting it drop into a clear container at his side.  
  
“It’s also boring as slag, right up there with Optimus’ history data pad collection.”  
  
“I heard that, Rodimus.”  
  
He hummed, seamlessly stepping into the conversation with a vengeance.  
  
“I also heard that despite your clumsy introduction and current disagreeable mood, you came to enjoy the rest of the cycle when Lord Drift took you to the race tracks.”  
  
Rodimus’ optics cycled wide and he swiveled on the floor towards him.  
  
“Who told you that?!”  
  
Across from him, Jazz yanked his servos underneath him and pushed himself up, staring in shock and a tinge of jealousy at his younger sibling.  
  
“You went to the race tracks??”  
  
Immediately, the youngest bot’s field flared out in denial.  
  
“NO!”  
  
Optimus was quick to calmly counter.  
  
“Yes, you did. I watched you leave with Lord Drift after mid-cycle.”  
  
As much as he loved his brother, the way he could so easily thwart him really grated on his nerves.  
  
“Were you spying on me?!”  
  
Jazz’s stunned gaze bounced between his brothers as they went back and forth, not exactly sure how to react at this point. The eldest, on the other hand, shrugged indifferently.  
  
“No. Your exit, however, was hard to miss.”  
  
Sputtering for a proper rebuttal, Rodimus stumbled over incoherent noises until jumping to his peds.  
  
“He challenged me to a race there! How was I supposed to turn down _the Lord of Crystal City??”_  
  
It was then that Jazz finally caught up and burst out laughing, throwing his servos out to emphasize himself.  
  
“Wait, wait, let me guess! You revved, spun your wheels at him and gave yourself a prompt head start while blowing out the audials of half the castle! I was wondering what that was!”  
  
Indignance surprise turning to a deadpanned glare, Rodimus swiveled back to Jazz as he chortled boisterously, falling back against the berth sheets and rolling off them. Without a shred of guilt, Optimus abandoned protocol to shed a smug smirk as Jazz sauntered over to the mirror their youngest brother was in front of, stepping up along his side.  
  
“Why do you _always_ have to take his side?”  
  
Rodimus whined, gesturing to the eldest, which elicited a short and amused huff from Jazz.  
  
“Because he’s usually right. And we heard someone revving their engines midway through the day. Lord Prowl thought it was a delinquent tearing up the gardens. He was right about the delinquent part.”  
  
Shoulders drooping in exasperation, the youngest Prime glared at Jazz without a retort to give. Optimus took those few moments of tense quiet to cross to the other side of the room. Easily side-stepping his brothers’ warring magnetic fields, he walked to his dresser, reorganizing the bottles of polish on it to make space for another object.  
  
Out of the corner of his optic, Jazz caught the actions, and with a raised metal brow he pulled his attention away from his sibling to watch. His optics widened when the eldest opened his subspace and withdrew a dagger. Curiously, Rodimus followed Jazz’s gaze, and briefly stopped venting when he saw the same.  
  
“… Uh, whatcha got there, OP?”  
  
The middle sibling questioned cautiously. He wouldn’t admit later on that he tensed when Optimus glanced over his shoulder and raised the weapon for better view.  
  
“A gift.”  
  
He replied. When Jazz focused more intently on the dagger, he found himself taken aback. The blade itself was stainless steel, glimmering even in low lighting and shaped into a subtle upward curve. The handle was polished iron strands twisted and braided into each other to form stylish curls and swoops. At the hilt, they weaved into one another around a rare dark blue tanzanite gemstone.  
  
“From the Lord of Kaon…?”  
  
Rodimus asked with a hint of apprehension, slowly following in step as Jazz walked over to hover next to the eldest sibling. A small, absent smile similar to the one the Lord of Kaon wore earlier in the cycle appeared on Optimus’ faceplates, softening his indifferent features as he gazed at it.  
  
*  
  
_Silence stood between them like an unbreakable barrier. Optimus scrambled for something to say, feeling ill-prepared and unnerved by it. But every time he came up with something, it died on his glossa, quickly classified as a naïve, juvenile topic in regard to the warlord of Kaon. Folding his servos in front of him as they walked, he dared a glance in the other mech’s direction. Crimson optics scanned over their surroundings apathetically, edged with something the young Prime could not quite distinguish.  
_  
_Finally, Megatron broke the barrier between them.  
_  
_“Your gardens are quaint.”  
_  
_He fought not to jump at the rough rasp, pulling his field inward to compose it. Courtesy protocols engrained in his coding gawked at the Kaoni lord’s informality, as well as his apparently low opinion of the castle gardens, demanding he be affronted. Yet, the way Megatron spoke with such ease and assured confidence was enough to help him ignore it. Such sureness almost made him envious. He could only act the part. And after so many vorns of acting, he did it so well he’d even convinced himself.  
_  
_Now, as he turned to properly address the warlord, he felt the mask he’d hid behind for so long begin to crumble, and it made him aware of his own frailty.  
_  
_“Pardon my lord?”  
_  
_The young Prime finally responded, hoping the uneasiness he felt did not leak into his voice. Megatron glanced at him, his gaze as piercing as his appearance as he ambled forward.  
_  
_“The stone work of these pathways is historic,” he began with a rumble, crimson optics pulling away to observe the sculpted stone walls draped in crystal vines, “but well crafted. The arches, their design is old Tarnian, is it not?”  
_  
_With a wave of his claws, the lord of Kaon gestured to the path before them leading up to one of the many breaks in the walls. The stones swooping above their helms were stacked against one another so fittingly they’d stood firm since their construction. Optimus recycled his optics, taken aback by the interest and curiosity that countered what he’d thought was a dismissal of the gardens as an oddity. Feeling the tension in his chest cables loosen, he looked up at the structure he’d taken for granted after walking beneath it all of his life.  
_  
_“Yes my lord.”  
_  
_He nodded and slowed his pace to look up at the stone centered at the top, shaped into a triangular form pointing down at them like an arrowhead.  
_  
_“At the time of its construction, the current ruler, Amalgamous Prime, had a Tarnian advisor who brought artists and sculptors from their city-state to aid in its design. It is to my understanding that he admired the finished product so much he ordered it to be preserved even after the kingdom fell.”  
_  
_Beside him, the tall war-build hummed something that sounded like a chuckle. Optimus turned around, confirming with surprise that Megatron was actually grinning with humored mirth.  
_  
_“A pointless order to give when there will surely be none left at such a time to remember the garden’s existence.”  
_  
_Optimus’s courtesy coding flared with indignance. Yet, he couldn’t help but smile, dwelling for a moment on his own recount of a less than important history lesson.  
_  
_“Yes, I suppose so. Amalgamous made quite a few orders that we question the sincerity of.”  
_  
_He picked back up their leisured pace along the path past the arch. The Lord of Kaon walked alongside of him with halted strides, seemingly unused to wandering without a purpose. Or, at the least, that’s what Optimus assumed from his own experiences.  
_  
_“Do these orders include the choice of crystal growth within the gardens?”  
_  
_Megatron questioned, humor still lacing his tone. Optimus recycled his optics once again, something knotting tightly in his tanks. What exactly did the war-build mean by that? He swallowed, answering evenly.  
_  
_“No, my lord. The crystals vines were planted by order of the current ruling Prime.”  
_  
_The young Prime glanced at them as he spoke, their glow vibrant as ever even in daylight. The lord did not seem to notice Optimus’s quick loss of wit, continuing without a hitch.  
_  
_“Is that so? Seems a bit of an odd choice. They’ve covered much of the admirable stone work and are clearly a hassle to maintain. Not to mention their coloring is a bit mundane. Would it not be proper for the Iaconian gardens to be more colorful?”  
_  
_As innocent as the comments could’ve been due to their vitality, Optimus felt the knot in his tanks grow hotter. His courtesy coding snarled, and he slowly rolled his shoulders to remain composed. The young Prime looked ahead as he replied.  
_  
_“These crystals were chosen in memory of Nova Prime, the Iaconian—”  
_  
_“Nova? You mean the crazed castle wanderer?”  
_  
_The Lord of Kaon laughed, any and all courtesy apparently forgotten. Optimus’s optics darkened, his cables going taunt as his coding fought to decide which was worse: being interrupted or hearing his deceased creator’s designation spoken with such indignity.  
_  
_“… I beg your pardon?”  
_  
_Megatron seemed blissfully unaware of his future bondmate’s rising temper, waving his claws without care.  
_  
_“My sire met her in the few trips he’d made to Iacon,” he declared, a snark cackle working its way between the words, “In his words, she was quite the bizarre character, galloping through Iacon’s halls and laughing as if deprived of sanity. It was quite the picture to behold!”  
_  
_Deprived of sanity?  
_  
_His spark flared angrily, and he could feel his composure slipping.  
_  
_“Did you ever have the chance to meet her, Optimus? You must’ve, I heard she only passed a couple centuries ago. Was she as much of a spectacle as rumors proclaim—?”  
_  
_Optimus Prime was not one to lose his temper, he’d been taught that it was unproper for a royal. But when he did, it was ugly.  
_  
_The Lord of Kaon was interrupted by his companion suddenly whirling on his peds to face him, his veils whipping with the movement. His optics were blazing.  
_  
_“You DESPICABLE aft!!”  
_  
_Optimus shouted. Megatron’s magnetic field fritzed around him in startlement before swirling in building fury at the insult. Crimson optics narrowed dangerously.  
_  
_“What—”  
_  
_He began but was cut off once again.  
_  
_“You DARE to come here, commit yourself to a bonding union with Iacon’s royal family, and then degrade the name of the Iaconian consort—my carrier?! As if she was a joke?!”  
_  
_This time, the Kaoni lord’s optics recycled, any building rage within them dissipating in a nanosecond to be replaced with shock.  
_  
_“… Your carrier?”  
_  
_His booming voice shrank down into a stunned rasp. Optimus rushed at him in one step, shoving a digit at the warlord’s chest furiously.  
_  
_“For your information, Lord Megatron, what your sire observed was her DANCING through our halls!! Nova brought great joy to this kingdom by teaching it the art of the practice, and even greater tragedy when she passed! She brought such stability to Iacon that to call her deprived of sanity is… is—!!"  
_  
_The young Prime trailed off, choked by the sobs climbing up his throat. He felt coolant burning at his optics, and suddenly realized what he just allowed to happen. It was as disgraceful as a sparkling throwing a temper tantrum at a guard. Probably even more. If his coding had emotions, it would’ve been horrified by his behavior. Especially in front of the lord of a city-state that was most likely ready to impale him for his indecency.  
_  
_But no one insulted her memory. Not to him. Not now, not ever.  
_  
_Optimus let his servo drop to his side, backing away a few steps as the anger in his tanks roiled to despair and dread. He dared a glance through blurry optics at the Lord of Kaon, finding a dumbfounded expression on those dangerous silver faceplates. With a shaky inhale, he averted his optics, wrapping his arms insecurely around his middle.  
_  
_“Please excuse me.”  
_  
_He whispered, turning on a heel and striding quickly down the path towards another part of the gardens. Wherever he went, it did not matter. Punishment and dishonor would await him at his destination.  
_  
_Turning right at the nearest corner, he found himself in front of the ancient fountain, still spewing oil as it had the night he’d last seen it. Glancing beyond its structure, he found the vine-covered walls that guarded the statue of his carrier.  
_  
_“What have I done?”  
_  
_He spoke softly, helm bowing low in humiliation as he faced her grave.  
_  
_“What have I done?!”  
_  
_His knees buckled and he stumbled to lean against the side of the fountain, servos covering his face as his tears coated the diamonds decorating it.  
_  
_“Your highness, wait!”  
_  
_A low, familiar voice thundered through the garden behind him. The young Prime gasped and wheeled around and off the fountain to stare at Megatron as he rounded the corner at a sprint. Catching sight of him, the Lord of Kaon slid to a stop, vents heaving and expression one of great worry.  
_  
_“Optimus, your highness… please, I beg of your pardon.”  
_  
_Megatron took a single step forward with servos raised, and Optimus mirrored it with an uneasy step backward. He felt his courtesy coding tripping over itself. First the warlord jokes and snipes without an ounce of respect for the Primes, and now he not only asks for absolution, but uses Optimus’s title? Confusion swirled in his field, rendering him quiet. The Lord of Kaon opened his intake to say something, but immediately bit it back before lowering his helm in shame.  
_  
_“It was never my intent to insult your creator so heinously… In utmost honesty, I had never been told you were her progeny, nor was I informed that she had been the consort of Iacon.”  
_  
_… What?  
_  
_The young Prime was almost completely convinced that had to be a lie. How could any lord, even the lord of Kaon, not be aware of the Iaconian consort? He gaped at the other mech unbelievingly, forgetting the coolant streaks glimmering over his face.  
_  
_“How could you not know…?”  
_  
_He began, to which Megatron replied with a low rumble.  
_  
_“Kaon, as I’m sure you already know, is an isolated city-state. All of its citizens, including myself, heard only of the rest of Cybertron through the few that traveled beyond our borders. The most frequent traveler being the previous lord of Kaon. He never mentioned her title, nor if she was bonded or if she had creations, only his perception of her behaviors. I had then assumed when I took leadership that she was simply an estranged relative to the current ruling Prime living in the castle.”  
_  
_The Lord of Kaon dared a guilty glance in his direction.  
_  
_Optimus stared long and hard at the warlord, trying to make sense of what he’d just been told. It was a ridiculous explanation. But if he thought about it, it would make sense for their current turn of events. He’d already known about their isolation, and he could promptly assume that it was a fact the lord of Kaon was the only one out of all them who would’ve met her. But if that’s how the previous ruler of Kaon spoke of her, then…?  
_  
_“Are these assumptions the opinion of the entirety of Kaon?”  
_  
_Megatron recycled his optics once again, and he adamantly shook his helm.  
_  
_“Pit no! Almost all of our citizens never heard much of the other city-states, nor did they care much about them.”  
_  
_The silver mech’s spiked shoulders suddenly sank, and something about the action made the young Prime’s tanks drop.  
_  
_“His advisors and fellow nobles, however, I believe are of the same opinion. He spoke to them regularly about his business outside of our borders.”  
_  
_In other words, the opinions of everyone that would soon matter to him were against his carrier, therefore against him. Optimus exhaled shortly, turning away from the lord to glance back at the vine-covered walls and the arch hidden by crystals. Without thinking, he muttered out loud the words he’d sworn to not say.  
_  
_“I don’t think this arrangement between us will work, Lord Megatron.”  
_  
_The warlord’s helm snapped back up, crimson optics intense.  
_  
_“Your highness—”  
_  
_“You and your advisors’ opinion of my carrier render her disgraced. You held my sire at gunpoint and therefore threatened the throne of Iacon.”  
_  
_The Kaoni lord’s intake snapped shut. Optimus was never supposed to know about that, neither were his siblings. But Alpha Trion withheld nothing from him the night he’d been found by Nova’s statue. As his mentor had put it, he was an adult and deserved to know what happened. At present, he wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or anguished that he knew it.  
_  
_“I am surprised you bothered to come to Iacon at all, for you found this arrangement, at best, skeptical. I know it well, those who knew of this union inferred it would end in my death. It is a terrifying thought, my lord, but I would’ve faced it without complaint. I would endure much to serve my city-state, even death… but not a lifetime of listening to scorn and mockery against my family.”  
_  
_Silence followed like a storm, engulfing them both. It was so thick they scrambled for a way to escape it, yet neither of them moved for a long time. What was there to say? Truths had been revealed, and they were both left at an impasse. They were stuck.  
_  
_Perhaps that was why Optimus jolted when he heard ped steps behind him, growing closer until they circled around his side and stopped in front of him.  
_  
_“You’re right.”  
_  
_Optimus blinked, raising his helm to gaze at the mech in front of him. The warlord’s shoulders were slightly drooped, and his optics held sorrow, but his expression was entirely sincere.  
_  
_“I thought your carrier deranged. I dislike your sire and hold very little respect for him. I held him at gunpoint when he disagreed with me and threatened your city-state. I was skeptical of this arrangement, for I’d assumed you would be just like him. I admit to it all, as you have admitted your own truths to me.”  
_  
_With the grace of a noble, Megatron lowered to a knee as he had in their introduction, leaving Optimus surprised as the lord looked up at him.  
_  
_“This is strange to me, your highness, I can only plead that you excuse my inadequacy to formulate proper apologies. My predecessors never bothered to admit when they were wrong, nor did they ever seek to compensate for unjust actions. It is a mistake that I am beginning to see has led Kaon down the wrong path… So let me admit how wrong I was to make such infantile assumptions about you and your carrier and offer you my humblest apologies.”  
_  
_The young Prime regarded him in shock and was rendered speechless as he continued.  
_  
_“You respected myself and my culture from the moment we met. You are intelligent, and unbelievably kind. And you are incredibly brave in your willingness to sacrifice your life for your city-state, your highness. In Kaon, we highly honor such courage. Pit, if my court had been the ones introduced to you this cycle, they would’ve had no choice but rethink their speculations!”  
_  
_Megatron stopped himself before he rambled and abandoned the thought for the point he was trying to make. He cautiously reached out, taking Optimus’s servos in his and ever-mindful that his claws did not scratch.  
_  
_“You are right to feel the way you do about this union. But at my side, I swear to you and Primus below that I will not allow any such mistreatment to reach you. If any noble or advisor of Kaon even mutters degradation, I will personally dismiss them from my halls.”  
_  
_Something that felt like his common sense told Optimus that Megatron was trading the words ‘personally dismiss’ for ‘execute and display them for all to see as warning,’ but he realized at the moment that he really didn’t care as he found himself embraced by the roughened, battered EM field of the war-build.  
_  
_“I want to make this work, Optimus. I understand the situation in which we’ve been introduced is less than adequate, and I’ve obviously left a terrible first impression by insulting you. But I plead for you to give me the chance to redeem myself. You are unlike any being I’ve come to meet, or even imagined to be bonded to… The last thing you deserve is to suffer at my servos.”  
_  
_As the words registered to his audials, the knot in his tank unwound, and Optimus found himself running the memory file through his processor one more time to be sure he’d heard it right.  
_  
_“… Please rise, Lord Megatron.”  
_  
_He finally spoke, a small smile pulling at his faceplates as he grasped back at the servos intertwined with his and held them. The warlord slowly lifted himself from the ground, standing in front of him with something akin to nervousness flashing over his faceplates.  
_  
_“Do you mean what you say?”  
_  
_The Kaoni lord nodded once, his field flaring around them with honesty.  
_  
_“I do.”  
_  
_Megatron paused, his optics flashing, and he let the armor of his left arm slide back to reveal a subspace.  
_  
_“There’s something I wish to give to you.”  
_  
_Reaching into it, he pulled out a shimmering, curved dagger with a handle of braided polished iron. Optimus’s optics widened when he noticed that within the hilt was a tanzanite gemstone. Megatron held the weapon as delicately as he held the Prime’s servos, showing it a devotion unexpected for a warlord like him.  
_  
_“We don’t follow many traditions in Kaon. This one, however, is vital to us… This weapon has been handed down by my family for eons. My eldest ancestor, Lord Megatronus, gave this to his consort on the day they bonded. Their son gave this to his consort, and their progeny to their consort. It has survived ages of war, peace, energon-shed, and prosper until it was handed down to me, gifted by my sire to my carrier in a sworn oath of partnership, commitment, and love.”  
_  
_The young Prime observed the blade with building intrigue and awe, spark pulsing at the opportunity to learn such a beautiful custom. He watched as the Kaoni lord skimmed his claws over the pointed edge. Amusement trickled into the other’s field and he hummed.  
_  
_“Before I departed to Iacon for this arrangement, my carrier flew at me in a rage demanding I take this with me and bestow it upon my betrothed partner as tradition demanded. I took it more for the sake of humoring him and hadn’t truly expected to give it to anyone when I arrived.”  
_  
_With a flick of the wrist, the dagger was flipped in his grip, silver shining as it caught the light and then was caught. It was an impressive show of skill, one that momentarily took the young Prime off guard until he saw it had landed upside down, the handle now facing him.  
_  
_“But you’ve changed my perspective on this arrangement, Optimus. And for that, I hope you will accept this ancient Kaonian gift.”  
_  
_If the Prime had been seeking any more sincerity in Megatron’s resolve to make this union work, this was it. By the way he held the blade, by the way he spoke of its history, he knew this was immensely important to the lord of Kaon. And now, he would become a part of this custom. Inhaling shakily, Optimus took the blade from silver claws, tracing the hilt with wonder and admiration before he met the other mech’s crimson optics with his own.  
_  
_“I am honored to receive such a treasure of your family, Megatron.”  
_  
_The silver mech’s intake curled up into a smile, and Optimus returned it as he stored the gift safely away in his own subspace, silently promising to make sure neither of his brothers got their servos on it.  
_  
_“Will you tell me more about your carrier?”  
_  
_Optimus froze as he closed his subspace, his startled gaze slowly gliding up to meet the other mech. Megatron’s expression turned anxious and he quickly cleared his intake.  
_  
_“That is, if you do not mind speaking of her. If you do not want to, I will not force you.”  
_  
_He spoke quickly. The young Prime’s spark pulsed in flattery, acknowledging that the Kaoni lord was attempting to be sensitive, yet wanted to hear about a matter that was of great significance to his future bondmate. Glancing over his shoulder at the wall of vines behind the fountain, Optimus’s optics brightened as an idea came to his processor. Perhaps if Megatron was willing enough to share such an important part of himself, then the young Prime could share his own.  
_  
_“Would you like to see her?”  
_  
*  
  
“… Whoa whoa, wait a klik. You called the Lord of Kaon despicable?? _To his face??”_  
  
Rodimus gawked from his seat at the end of his eldest sibling’s berth, an expression that was mirrored by Jazz. Optimus nodded tiredly, drawing back the covers to slip into them. He sighed in relief to finally be off his weary struts, not even caring about courtesy protocol in front of his brothers as he drew the cover over his frame and curled under it.  
  
“Well, the fragger deserved it! Calling carrier crazy cause his sire thought her dancing was weird.”  
  
Jazz grumbled, falling on his side next to Optimus with an unimpressed sneer. The eldest groaned as his berth was jostled by the movement, looking over his shoulder and through his smoke stack to glare lightly at the cause.  
  
“Jazz, watch your language.”  
  
The middle sibling raised an optical brow and flashed an incredulous smile at him in return, flopping up and down one more time on purpose to his brother’s irritation.  
  
“You’re one to talk, OP! I’m not the one who called the leader of the most violent city-state on Cybertron an aft.”  
  
“So, wait, who did he think was your carrier if he thought she was sire’s relative?”  
  
Rodimus asked, watching Optimus’s shoulder shift underneath the covers.  
  
“Alpha Trion.”  
  
At that, both younger siblings blinked before exchanging equally disgusted and disturbed faces.  
  
“… Eww.”  
  
“Aw mech, that’s just wrong. He’d turn us all into library geeks.”  
  
“Not to mention he’s, like, a thousand times older than sire!”  
  
Optimus listened to them both with an ever-growing helm ache, ducking under the blankets and into their dark warmth with a grouse.  
  
“Jazz, Rodimus, we all have to be up by dawn next cycle to prepare for breakfast with the lords. It is my opinion as the eldest that you get out of my room and go to recharge.”  
  
Said siblings immediately stopped bickering to gaze at the large lump underneath the blankets. Jazz flashed another him another unimpressed face. Rodimus, however, had an evil grin blooming. Silently, he waved at Jazz, waiting until he had his theatric brother’s attention before throwing him a couple servo signals. He pointed at the lump, and the same evil smile blossomed on Jazz’s face. They felt their brother’s field, lazily pooled on the berth, now brimming with unease as he sensed the abrupt silence and their continued presence.  
  
“… Jazz, Rodimus, I said to—”  
  
Suddenly, Jazz flew forward and yanked the blankets off their brother, who only had a moment to acknowledge his exposure before Rodimus jumped on him with digits full of static electricity.  
  
“Nope! Embrace the brotherly love!!”  
  
Thousands of tiny charged bolts crackled through his plating and into his wiring, and Optimus gasped before bursting into laughter. Jazz jumped on him next and goosed his sides, leaving him defenseless and squirming underneath them. It wasn’t often that they got the advantage over their eldest brother, but when they did, Jazz and Roddy took it to the fullest. There were sometimes when Optimus even let them have the win, perfectly willing to let go of his own composure after lessons or Iaconian business left him tired and stressed.  
  
It was then that the door to his room opened a crack, and a pair of weathered blue optics peeked in.  
  
“Embrace it OP! You have no choice!”  
  
“No! Jazz, wait—!”  
  
The eldest shouted with new laughter, unable to struggle with two frames sitting on him. On the other side of the door, Sentinel smiled nostalgically at the sight. He could almost picture them in their earlier ages, living their lives without a care as their laughter filled the halls. This might be the last time he ever saw them doing this again. With that in mind he took a snapshot, saving it to his favorite memory files before stepping into the room unnoticed. Closing the door quietly behind him, he took great pleasure in running the short distance to the berth.  
  
“Reinforcements have arrived!!”  
  
All three of his sons paused and looked up with surprise as he leapt up and onto the berth. With a mischievous smirk he grabbed Jazz and threw him to the edge.  
  
“Quickly Optimus! You take Rodimus, I’ll take Jazz! They don’t stand a chance against us!”  
  
Without missing a beat, the eldest rocketed up and sent static charge up underneath Rodimus’s arms, causing him to yell and then burst out laughing. Jazz was similarly helpless when his sire dragged his servos up and down his legs, tapping at the particularly sensitive spots behind his knee joints. They tortured them mercilessly for another few kliks before they were gasping for air, and Sentinel straightened himself to sit upright at the edge of the berth.  
  
“Well, that’s at least one battle I know I can win.”  
  
He chuckled, watching as Jazz pointed up at him with annoyed optics.  
  
“You had help!”  
  
The Prime shook his helm, patting his middle spark’s cheek plate.  
  
“Oh no, Jazz. I _am_ the help.”  
  
Smiling mirthlessly, he couldn’t help a snicker when the young mech warily scooted out of his reach with suspicious blazing optics. With a contented sigh, he regarded each of his creations.  
  
“And unless you want to be victim of my charged digits once more, I suggest you get to your berths and recharge. As I recall, you three have an early breakfast scheduled with the lords next cycle.”  
  
On a whim, he winked an optic at them, an action that that Jazz and Rodimus both groaned at while Optimus fought not to roll his optics.  
  
“Sire, _please_ never do that again.”  
  
Rodimus whined, causing the ruler to raise an amused brow ridge before shuttering an optic.  
  
“Oh dear, it seems that my optic is darkening, whatever shall I do besides wink?”  
  
Jazz and Rodimus exchanged expressions before leaping off the berth and sprinting out of the room. Their sire and eldest brother followed their hasty exit with entertainment. After a moment, the young Prime settled back against the headrest, picking up his carelessly flung covers and smoothing the wrinkles out of them.  
  
“They did well this cycle, sire.”  
  
Sentinel turned back to his son, his smile softening as he met that cerulean gaze.  
  
“That they did. And I cannot begin to tell how proud I am of you three.”  
  
When he felt his sire’s field lovingly embrace him, Optimus smiled, letting his field weave into the other out of comforting familiarity as he drew the covers back over himself. Sentinel observed him for a moment before the lightness in his face fell away, replaced with solemnness.  
  
“Optimus.”  
  
He reached out to grasp the free black servo, and his eldest son looked back up at him immediately. The weathered optics that scanned him were serious.  
  
“The Lord of Kaon, he did not try to harm you in any way this cycle, did he?”  
  
Optimus paused for a moment, taking in the less than hidden desperation and distress in his sire’s field. Without another moment of hesitation, he embraced it with his own, giving him as much reassurance as he could.  
  
“No, he did not. He has made it clear to me that he holds no intention of harming me.”  
  
Sentinel’s shoulders slumped in the slightest show of relief, nodding in acknowledgement.  
  
“If you’re sure.”  
  
His son squeezed his servo in reply, gratitude bleeding into his field.  
  
“I am.”  
  
Sentinel’s lip plates flickered into a brief smile before leveling out, and he grasped his son’s other servo in emphasis.  
  
“However, I want you to promise me something, here and now.”  
  
Optimus slowly inclined his helm to show agreement, and the Prime continued.  
  
“If that _son of a glitch_ ever attempts to hurt you, deceive you, or abuse you in any way, you will let me know immediately and I will put an end to the union… _no matter the cost_. Is that understood?”  
  
The young Prime recycled his optics, taken aback by the venom so rarely heard in his sire’s tone. In brief reflection, he thought back to the Kaoni lord’s oath to him earlier in the cycle. It warmed his spark, and he nearly glanced at the dresser his dagger rested upon. However, something in his creator’s dimmed optics told him not to let him know it was there. To not recount what Megatron and his court had thought of his consort. Instead, Optimus squeezed his sire’s servos and embraced him with his field.  
  
“Of course, sire.”  
  
He spoke gently, and Sentinel relaxed with the spoken assurance. He shuttered his optics, and whatever shadow that had cast itself over his optics disappeared into oblivion.  
  
“Please know that I am not doing this to take away the availability of your opportunities, Optimus. If you truly want this bonding, then I will not stop you. But as your sire, I am only concerned for your well-being.”  
  
His son nodded as he spoke.  
  
“I know you are, sire. And I will come to you if anything of concern arises from this union.”  
  
He said concludingly. Sentinel took heed of the hardness behind the declaration, knowing that behind his son’s gentleness was a spark of steel. Just like Nova. He smiled, patting his son’s servos and arising from the berth.  
  
“Alright, I will take my leave then. I’ve kept you up long enough. Goodnight, Optimus.”  
  
“Goodnight, sire.”  
  
The lights in the room dimmed as the Iaconian ruler exited, taking care to close the door quietly as he stepped out. When his ped steps retreated down the hall towards his brothers’ rooms, the young Prime sat forward, allowing his troubled gaze to wander to the dresser. Sliding off the berth, he approached it, taking the dagger by the handle and tracing its sharp edge with cautious digits.  
  
There were questions still pressing at the forefront of his processor, ones that arose in his time with Megatron that he’d meant to ask the ruling Prime when they were alone. But something was off about his tone tonight. Something in the back of his optics that warned Optimus to be wary of what he said. It felt preposterous to his common sense. This was his sire, Megatron had threatened him with war and a blaster at his helm, of course he would be angry and protective of the son that would be bonded to the lord of Kaon. Perhaps he was analyzing too deeply, as he always did.  
  
Then again, what was it about the unfamiliar chill in his gaze that made Optimus cling to the dagger? Cling to its oath?  
  
Walking back to the berth, he focused in on a blemish spot dotting the silver blade. He hummed, taking a polishing cloth from his subspace.  
  
“You’ve been through a lot up to this point, haven’t you?”  
  
Optimus spoke absently, sitting by the headrest as he rubbed the blemish with the cloth. After a few nanoseconds he pulled away, observing shine where the spot had been. Following a few moments of consideration, he wrapped the polishing cloth around the dagger, then put it in his subspace with care.  
  
“I think you’ll be safer with me, tonight.”  
  
With that, he slid back under the warmth of the blankets, finally letting the long-needed recharge claim his weary frame and restless mind.  
  
*The Next Cycle*  
  
A loud snort echoed through Iacon’s royal stables, followed by the flick of an anxious EM field. Optimus paused in mid-stroke over the metal hide, his wire brush hovering in place as his consciousness found its way back to reality. Resetting his optics, the young Prime looked up and met the glowing green gaze of his Equinoid. Fondness pulsed in his spark at the sight.  
  
“I beg your pardon, was I overthinking again?”  
  
Her rounded ears swiveled towards him as he spoke, the cross-tied chains on her halter clinking and pulling taunt as she craned her neck further to look at him. Impulsiveness in her magnetic field altered to curiosity, posing questions he knew he could not answer in his language. Optimus let the brush fall to his side, stepping forward to stand by her long face.  
  
“Forgive me, Solus. I know you’ve been waiting patiently. I promise I’m nearly finished.”  
  
He praised, pressing his reassuring field against the other as he offered her his servo. Her optics brightened with interest, and she dipped her muzzle lower to press it into the palm. Large nostrils dilating as she drew in his scent, Solus soon realized that he held no treats for her and huffed in disappointment. The young Prime chuckled at the display.  
  
Suddenly, the equinoid’s ears perked and her head jerked up to stare past him. Her long, high whinny rang in his audials before the clatter of enormous hooves took its place.  
  
“Does you mind regularly wander so far that your mare must call you back, your highness?”  
  
Optimus’s gaze shifted to the entrance leading in from the crystal pastures. The Lord of Kaon strolled through, a teasing grin pointed at the Prime as he led another massive Equinoid at his shoulder. Catching the humor in his rumble as well as his expression, Optimus turned back to his mare as the smile on his face grew.  
  
“I’d advise that Detritus is kept at a distance from Solus, my lord. They do not get along well.”  
  
The stallion at Megatron’s side was one of the ruling Prime’s most esteemed breeders, born with impressive conformation and a strong temperament that was highly prized in Iacon’s equinoid stock. However, he was a ruthless breaker of fences when in pursuit of a female, and incredibly hard to catch, even for specialized trainers. Even after hearing the warning, Megatron not only requested him as his mount for the day’s ride but marched past the gate and wrangled a halter on the Equinoid within the span of a klik. It was remarkable display of skill that left Optimus flustered as he watched.  
  
“Hmm, is that so?”  
  
Megatron spoke with a pondering gaze. As if to prove her rider’s claim, Solus shook her head at the stallion, her ears flicking backward in warning. Detritus did not seem at all perturbed by this, his field reaching out in greeting to the mare.  
  
“Have they ever been appropriately introduced?”  
  
The Kaoni lord asked promptly, causing the young Prime to pause as he rubbed his mount’s neck.  
  
“No. Her genetic origins do not warrant their coupling.”  
  
At his response, Megatron lifted an optical brow just slightly.  
  
“Then I do not see how such dislike should arise without true knowledge of each other. First impressions may be significant, Optimus, but they are almost always unreliable. When countered with time and truth, mistaken ones do not last.”  
  
Optimus recycled his optics, taken aback by the other mech’s statement. It pulled at his processor as much as it pattered the casing of his spark. Perhaps he should’ve tried to stop the war-build as he coaxed the stallion towards the mare, but he only tipped his helm to watch.  
  
Solus snorted in clear irritation as the other Equinoid neared, her ears pinning back, and she extended her hoof to paw at the ground. Detritus was not dissuaded, ears forward as he stretched his long neck towards her and nickered. The sound brought a halt to the mare’s movements, and she cautiously moved to let their muzzles bump into one another. For a tense few nanoseconds, they inhaled each other’s scent, and their EM fields touched one another. Then, as the stallion reached father to sniff at the rest of her face, Solus returned the nicker, her field relaxing. He accidentally blew air through his nostrils at her optic, causing it to dim before she nipped at him in annoyance.  
  
Neither lord or Prime could resist laughing at the stallion’s blunder. Optimus patted the mare’s shoulder amusedly, his gaze shifting back to the other mech. Crimson optics returned to him the moment he found them. They beheld him with affection and wonder, an expression so similar to last cycle when he’d walked down the stairs to the entrance hall and discovered joy in the hardened façade of a warlord.  
  
His spark pulsed hard, and his courtesy coding snapped at him for staring too long. Quickly clearing his intake, the young Prime stepped away and towards her swayed back to finish cleaning her hide.  
  
“I see that you hold a fair point, my lord. However, we should pick up our pace if we have any hope of mounting before mid-cycle.”  
  
Megatron blinked, as if pulled out of his own thoughts, and he nodded in acknowledgment.  
  
“Ah, yes, as you wish your highness.”  
  
With a tug, he beckoned Detritus back to his side and both mech and Equinoid passed by. Optimus tilted his helm at the mischievous edge in the lord’s tone, and he looked to see Megatron glancing back over his shoulder with a small smirk. Optimus could not help smiling back, stretching his field long enough to flick it at him.  
  
He wouldn’t admit to the childish snicker that escaped him when the warlord’s field tapped him back.  
  
*  
  
_Rodimus grumbled and swatted at his elder brother._  
  
_“Will you stop messing with my cape?!”  
_  
_Gentle servos did not cease in smoothing out his apparel, and Rodimus swiped viciously at them.  
_  
_“Stop!! I look fine!!”  
_  
_Toning down his audials at his sibling’s loud retaliation, Optimus fended off his advances and finished brushing off the red fabric with concentrated optics.  
_  
_“Rodimus, you were supposed to hang this properly after wearing it. The wrinkles and collected dust upon it are unappealing.”  
_  
_The youngest Prime threw his arms up with a huff, glaring at his brother as he circled around to his back to straighten out the creases. From the other side of the hallway, Jazz spoke up from where he leaned against the wall, teal cape unfastened and pulled over his frame like a blanket.  
  
__Yeah, come on Roddy, it’s been over a stellar cycle since we last wore these. That poor thing didn’t deserve to be crumbled in a ball in your closet…”  
_  
_He mumbled before trailing off into a loud yawn, rubbing at his dim optics. Rodimus’s helm jerked up towards him, blue optics blazing and field whipping around him dangerously. Long eons of practice taught the eldest to ignore it; neither of them liked having their recharge cycles interrupted so early in the morning and would not be agreeable until after having a meal. Glancing over his shoulder at the middle sibling, the eldest only raised a brow at him.  
_  
_“Jazz, fix your cape. And don’t tease Rodimus.”  
_  
_A static whine bled from the young black and white mech’s voice box as he let the cloth drop from his grip and hang properly.  
_  
_“But OP, it’s fraggin’ cold out here! My temperature regulators are still recalibrating!”  
_  
_“‘My temperature regulators are still recalibrating!’”  
_  
_Rodimus replied back in a high-pitched, mocking tone. He watched with a growing smirk as Jazz’s optics darkened.  
_  
_“That’s not funny.”  
_  
_“That’s not funny!”  
_  
_The middle sibling pushed himself off the wall, crossing his arms over his chest plates with a huff.  
_  
_“Roddy stop it.”  
_  
_“Roddy stop it!!”  
_  
_His short amount of patience snapped, Jazz stomped forwards to give his brother a piece of processor. Before they could meet, Optimus swooped around and stood between them, dark blue cape billowing behind him.  
_  
_“Enough! Both of you! Or else I’ll contact Alpha Trion and let him oversee your preparations instead!”  
_  
_He barked, cerulean optics intense as they shifted to each brother. Rodimus and Jazz stared each other down for another few moments. Then, in an agreed stalemate, they both broke optic contact at once, Jazz shifting his weight from one ped to another while Rodimus grumbled irritably. Satisfied, Optimus took a few steps backward to look over their appearances, nodding to himself.  
__  
"You both look charming. Now please don’t mess with your capes, you’ll be wearing them until dinner.”  
_  
_Rodimus and Jazz groaned simultaneously, which might’ve been amusing if Optimus hadn’t taken the moment in between to check his chronometer. He almost let out a groan of his own, not having meant to spend this long getting ready.  
_  
_“Come. We’re expected in the eastern dining room.”  
_  
_With a sweep of his cape, the eldest Prime turned on a heel and strode quickly towards the end of the hallway. Behind him, his siblings only had time to blink before they sprinted after him.  
_  
_“Hey, wait for us!”  
_  
_Listening to their ped steps stomping closer, Optimus wasted no time in descending the first half of the staircase. As he went, he checked his chronometer again, and he narrowly avoided cursing when it showed they only had two kliks before they would be late. Courtesy coding snarled at him when he took the rest of the staircase at a trot.  
_  
_“I thought we weren’t supposed to run in the castle?!”  
_  
_Rodimus asked as he finally caught up with him at the bottom of the stairs. Optimus ignored him, jogging once he hit the floor. His brothers struggled to keep up with his long-legged strides through the next three hallways and four turns.  
_  
_When they finally came to the eastern corridor, the eldest caught sight of their mentor and sire standing at the entrance to the dining room. Immediately, he shifted back down to a swift walk, and he wouldn’t admit to the gratitude that flooded his field when he reached them just as the chronometer struck their designated time of arrival.  
_  
_“Ah, there you are. Good morning, Optimus.”  
_  
_Sentinel greeted, his and his mentor’s intakes curling up into warm smiles. Halting, the eldest composed himself to return a bow.  
_  
_“Good morn—ING?!”  
_  
_He finished with a pained and confused exclamation, nearly stumbling forward as something rammed into his back with quite a bit of force. The Lord Prime and advisor jolted at the response, blinking in confusion as Rodimus timidly peeked out from behind his brother.  
_  
_“Oops… uh, good morning?”  
_  
_Short of any patience he’d once had that morning, Optimus whipped his helm around to glare venomously at his youngest brother. Jazz approached behind them and abruptly pulled up short, side-stepping his older brother’s angry field and waving at the elders.  
_  
_“Mornin’ sire. We made it!”  
_  
_With familiar exasperation, Alpha Trion placed a servo over his optics and sighed, whereas their sire merely shook his helm with a small grin.  
_  
_“You are. Though I believe, in the process, you sacrificed your brother’s better temper. Rodimus, I would advise stepping away before you’re beaten.”  
_  
_The youngest didn’t need any more invitation as he scrambled out from behind Optimus and to the other side of Jazz.  
_  
_From inside the dining room, a quiet set of peds made their way towards the door, alerting the Primes outside. They had only a moment to scramble and compose themselves before the Lord of Crystal City stepped out into the hallway, helm tilted inquisitively in the ruling Prime’s direction.  
_  
_“Is everything alright out here, Lord Sentinel? We thought we heard a commotion.”  
_  
_He asked, soon shadowed by the Lord of Praxus standing in the doorway with flicking doorwings. Jazz and Rodimus both froze up, standing straighter and subtly brushing off their adorning capes. Sentinel instantly returned a reassuring nod, eons of practiced diplomacy teaching him to smile with it.  
_  
_“Yes, all is well. It was only my sons’ arrival.”  
_  
_As he spoke, Sentinel gestured to them with an elegant wave of his servo. The lords’ gazes followed, resting upon the princes. Prowl’s optics were the first to brighten, his doorwings lifting up on his back as he walked out of the doorway and to the black and white mech.  
_  
_“Good morning, Jazz.”  
_  
_He greeted, stooping to gather one of his future bondmate’s servos and press a kiss to the back of it. Jazz’s field shimmered with a blush, smiling shyly as he returned a small bow.  
_  
_“Good morning, my lord.”  
_  
_Prowl’s doorwings fluttered and he smiled, standing once more and offering his elbow to the prince.  
_  
_“May I?”  
_  
_Jazz slipped his arm through without a moment’s delay, almost bouncing giddily on his peds as the lord of Praxus escorted him into the dining room. Their fields were already weaving together, radiating joy. His younger brother huffed at his exit, about to stick his glossa at his back until the lord of Crystal City approached him, stopping him short.  
_  
_“Good morning, Rodimus.”  
_  
_He addressed gently, holding out his elbow. The youngest Prime’s expression softened, about to greet him in return but then deciding against it, stepping forward to the lord’s side without a word. He knew if he said anything, it would be an unproper and rather squeaky ‘hi.’  
_  
_Optimus watched his brothers be taken into the dining room by their destined partners, followed shortly by Alpha Trion. He knew the lord of Kaon was in there as well, waiting for him. The eldest took a moment to regain his poise, inhaling and exhaling a deep vent, having no intention of losing his temper today. There was a blissful moment he spent in silence before a servo brushed over his back strut, pulling him back to awareness. He turned to see his sire at his side, embracing him in the assurance emanating from his field.  
_  
_“Peace, Optimus. You were astounding yesterday, and I have every faith that you will be no less today.”  
_  
_The eldest smiled lightly at his sire’s admonishment, nodding in acknowledgement and weaving his appreciative field into the edge of the Prime’s. He then faced the doorway, setting his shoulders before striding through. Ruling Prime and prince both entered at once, splitting off in different directions as Optimus sought out the warlord of Kaon.  
_  
_He found the silver mech standing on the far side of the room, gazing out of one of the towering windows. Steeling himself, the eldest prince made his way towards the other, briefly noting how the rising sun reflected off his armor. The warlord had turned himself just enough that the emblem on his chest could be seen, showing the Kaonian crest in a morning gold. It also showed his right arm, and the ominous cannon forged into its form.  
_  
_Optimus stepped up beside him, peering out the glass pane as well. Directly below them was the palace courtyard, and around it lay the city of Iacon, already bustling with life. He soon realized that Megatron had angled himself towards the west, gazing at the distant outline of arches and stonework shining with crystals. The sun hit them just right that its light refracted in a spectrum of colors, turning the garden into a glorious scene that could’ve come from a painting.  
_  
_“… I suppose I was wrong to claim the crystals of your gardens were mundane.”  
_  
_Megatron murmured, as if the chatter behind them did not exist and he hesitated to disturb this quiet moment. Optimus glanced over at his destined partner, the corner of his intake curling upward as he let the chatter fade into the background.  
_  
_“They refract light when the sun sets as well. And at night, it is hard to believe they are not stars amidst the surface.”  
_  
_The prince recited, and the attention of the warlord’s crimson optics slid towards him. He also began to smile.  
_  
_“I’ll take your word for it. You have proven me wrong at least three times by now.”  
_  
_Optimus chuckled lightly, turning back to the view of the gardens beyond. Memories pulled at his spark, and his optics dimming as a familiar form danced behind them.  
_  
_“My carrier found them in her youth. A grove of them grew about twenty miles south of the palace. She used to ride there every night to be among them and see them when the sun rose. It happened so often that when she and sire were bonded, he brought back crystals to grow in a section of the gardens for her.”  
_  
_At the mention of the Iaconian ruler, the warlord’s small grin faded, yet he hummed in amusement.  
_  
_“Every night? Seems a bit much to take such a trip so often. Did she truly love them so much? Better yet, I wonder why he did not think of bringing the crystals back sooner.”  
_  
_To either of his siblings and his sire, that might’ve come across as an insult. But the softer tone to his field told Optimus that this was simply his way of engaging in conversation, perhaps the way he’d been taught to engage in Kaon.  
_  
_“It is to my understanding that she did not tell him of the crystals until just before their ceremony. She told me in my own youth that they were her best kept secret, that such beauty was better seen where it was meant to flourish.”  
_  
_He recalled, to which Megatron’s expression sobered, and he nodded.  
_  
_“She makes a fair point then.”  
_  
_About half a klik of silence stood between them. Unlike yesterday, it was less awkward and not begging for greeting or conversation. It was strange, and in the back of his processor he could yet feel his courtesy coding’s disappointment. But it wasn’t the first time, and surely wouldn’t be the last. The Kaonian warlord looked back out the window at the gardens.  
_  
_“This grove; it stands twenty miles to the south, you say?”  
_  
_He asked, and Optimus blinked in momentary surprise at the broken silence and the question that did so. The young Prime nodded, about to speak before he heard his sire’s voice resonate throughout the room.  
_  
_“Ah, finally! Breakfast is served! Come my lords, my sons, please have a seat!”  
_  
_The warlord and the prince both turned to look over their shoulders, noticing the servants now bustling around the table with covered dishes, steam rolling out from under their metal concealments. Their gazes then met each other, and Megatron gave him a gentled smirk before gesturing towards the table with a sweep of his clawed servo.  
_  
_“Well, shall we eat, your highness?”  
_  
_Optimus smiled in return, leading the warlord towards the far end of the table to hopefully avoid any conflict between his destined partner and his sire. It was with no lightness to his spark that he remembered the possibility of war if this union did not work.  
_  
_Even so, the warlord of Kaon made no qualms of the young Prime’s decision of their placement at the table. He did not take him by the elbow and lead him there, but walked beside him, placing confidence in the mech that was to be his equal. When they reached their chairs, Megatron took up Iaconian courtesy to pull out the prince’s chair, patiently waiting for him to sit before pushing it back in.  
_  
_And oh, the young Prime could not help but think, how the ruling warlord of the vicious city-state of Kaon did so with such kindness.  
_  
*  
  
The four-beat gait of her hooves thundered over the smooth path, pounding in his audials without truly reaching them as sound. Wind whipped at his faceplates and swept the cape up and off his backplates, flapping behind him like a flag. His mare’s head bobbed forward and back as she galloped at full speed, and when he looked down, he could see her nostrils flaring when they sucked in air.  
  
Around him, the world zipped by, and in front of them Optimus could see a fallen crystalline tree log over the path. His blue optics flashed with energy, and he stretched his servos farther up her neck to gather more contact with the reins. Nudging her with the heels of his peds, the prince grounded himself in his seat as she accelerated in speed. Then, he stood in his stirrups, arching over her withers and neck as Solus leapt over the log. For a long, exhilarating moment it felt like they were flying, and he took a moment to savor the experience.  
  
It did not last long, of course, and he braced himself for the impact of her hooves hitting the ground with a jarring _thump_. Barely shaken by it, he reined her into a tight circle, letting her prance off her built-up energy.  
  
“Easy, Solus. It seems we’ve left our companions behind.”  
  
He soothed, running his digits over the arch of her neck. The Equinoid halted, letting go of a long sigh through her nostrils as she chewed at the bit in her mouth.  
  
A few nanoseconds later, the thunderous stampede of another set of hooves met their audials. Optimus looked up as the intimidating form of Detritus suddenly appeared over the log, his legs folding under him before stretching back out to catch himself on the other side. He landed heavily on his front hooves, but swiftly recovered to continue. Megatron reined him back, his crimson optics narrowing as the stallion beneath him snorted and stamped. Optimus watched as the silver mech pulled one side of the reins out and drove his heel into the Equinoid’s side, forcing him to trot in another tight circle.  
  
“Your skill with Detritus is impressive, my lord,” the prince admonished, a partly amused grin surfacing on his faceplate. “His trainers have constant difficulty bringing him back under control. He usually bucks them off first.”  
  
Megatron scoffed at his statement, pulling the agitated stallion into reverse. Black armor rippled over the Equinoid’s well-built shoulders and withers, moving fluidly as the cables beneath constricted with his indignance.  
  
“Then clearly, they are not using a strong enough servo with him. An Equinoid has never been properly challenged if his arrogance actually rivals my sire’s!”  
  
He growled as he released the reins. Optimus couldn’t help a chuckle at the statement until Detritus suddenly halted, lowering his head as his field emitted defeat. The warlord patted him on the shoulder and then looked over at the prince.  
  
“You ride well, your highness. I have met very few who are able to overtake a stallion on a mare.”  
  
Solus’ ears flicked forward as she nickered at their companions. Optimus ran his digits through her mane, absently shaking his helm as he did so.  
  
“She may not have the most prestigious of bloodlines, but I’ve always believed her ability under the saddle is to be respected. The trainers to this day doubt her as a credible choice for a royal.”  
  
“I am doubting the credibility of these trainers at this point.” The warlord scolded, glancing at their steeds before returning his gaze to his destined partner. “But do not sell your own talent short. One of the many things Kaon prides itself on is its citizens’ skill with mech-animals. From what I’ve seen thus far, you are an exceptional rider, and will fit in with us well.”  
  
The compliment had heat rushing to his faceplates before he could stop it, and Optimus ducked his helm shyly.  
  
“You flatter me, Lord Megatron, thank you.”  
  
Solus felt the bashfulness rush through her rider’s field and she snorted, twisting her head around to glance up at her rider. The prince felt curiosity and confusion lacing her field and smiled, taking up her reins once more. Nudging her again with his heels, he pushed Solus back onto the trail, peering over his shoulder with a grin as she walked ahead.  
  
“Come. We’re almost there.”  
  
Megatron smirked up at him, pushing the stallion into a trot until they rode side by side on the trail. Their Equinoids’ fields brushed against one another, tolerant and welcoming in nature, and Optimus couldn’t help his amusement at their ironic friendship. After this, it was most likely they would not be allowed within lengths of each other.  
  
As their trail led out from within the crystalline forest and into an open meadow, Optimus reflected on the warlord’s previous comment about Kaon. His optical brows furrowed, and he then pondered the research he’d done of the city-state before the lord’s arrival. The datapads he’d studied hadn’t been much, only outlining the basics to know about the violent city-state. It was enough to keep him from making any drastic mistakes with the lord, but not enough to answer his ever-growing list of questions.  
  
Perhaps now, with Megatron, he had a chance to ask a few.  
  
“… I had not realized Kaon prided itself on its citizens’ skill with mech-animals,” he began, drawing his companion’s optics and attention. “Are they as extensive of an industry to Kaon as mining?”  
  
The silver mech’s optics shuttered in surprise.  
  
“You do not know of our mech-animal industry?”  
  
Optimus shook his helm, forcing himself not to shrug as their Equinoids walked among the silver grasses waving in the breeze.  
  
“Unfortunately, I do not. I have only heard of your mining industry. Any texts I further consulted on the subject of your city-state held no further information.”  
  
He relented, watching as Megatron’s optics recycled once again. The warlord then sighed, turning to scan the trail through the field ahead of them.  
  
“… figures he would… withhold… about Kaon… Cybertron.”  
  
The warlord muttered to himself, his destined partner only catching small parts of it. Apprehension slowly dripped into his field at the grumbled words, and he almost regretted asking at all.  
  
“Of course, it could be that I’m consulting the wrong texts!” He amended hurriedly. “I beg of you to pardon my ignorance, my lord—”  
  
Megatron’s helm immediately whipped back to him, his magnetic field flaring wide enough for the prince to feel it on his side of the trail.  
  
“Ignorance? Optimus, that is no fault of yours. Neither is the lack of information… If anyone is to blame for that blunder, it would be my sire. He withdrew Kaon into its borders after the betrayals of other city-states. Since the recent beginning of my reign, I have attempted to change that, with varying levels of success. Clearly not enough, however.”  
  
A short paused ensued between them. Optimus watched as the silver mech shifted in the saddle, averting his optics to the trail as if gathering his thoughts before turning back to the prince.  
  
“Kaon’s main sources of income are the mining industry and the mech-animal industry. A good portion of our city-state lays over the underground tunnels where we excavate and forge with the elemental metals. The rest of our city-state above ground, however, is farmland. About half of our citizens are harvesters or livestock caretakers. They take great pride in their trade.”  
  
With his right heel, the prince nudged Solus to side step towards their companions as the silver mech talked.  
  
“Kaon’s citizens raise a variety of livestock species, I presume?”  
  
He inquired, to which he received an affirmation.  
  
“Yes. There is not a single species of livestock that I have yet to see my city-state. With how much variety in mech-animals our caretakers provide, we are inherently versatile in our market products. We can provide for ourselves and have done so for a long time without much source of income from the majority of Cybertron.”  
  
Their trail led back into the forest and under the shade of the trees. Looking ahead, they could see it gradually incline into a hill, disappearing around a westward bend. As he scanned the upcoming length of their path, Optimus meditated on his companion’s words, understanding a bit better now how the isolated city-state had held its own for so long.  
  
“If I may inquire, Lord Megatron, how then does your city-state’s military factor into the Kaonian industries?”  
  
Their Equinoids huffed as they began to climb the incline. Both riders leaned their weight forward in their saddles, and Megatron huffed at the young Prime’s question.  
  
“Our military? I would not call it an industry more than a glorified defense system for Kaon. My sire’s advisors convinced him to dedicate a lot of the metals we mined into their weaponry and armor. Furthermore, they draft many of our citizens into it, convince them to support it, put forth its best features at our borders. It places them in a grandiose image that does not truly reflect what they are.”  
  
Optimus blinked, surprise bleeding into his field as he turned back towards the warlord with a tilt of his helm.  
  
“I was led to believe Kaon held a well-built military as a result of its mistrust of other city-states.”  
  
Megatron hummed in acknowledgement and partial agreement of the statement.  
  
“A belief I am not surprised other city-states would hold. Our border guards tend to shoot first at outsiders and ask questions later.”  
  
The prince’s spinal strut stiffened, uneasiness replacing the surprise in his spark, and he looked ahead instantly. He could not be surprised, not after his sire’s relay of the journey to Kaon, but that did not make its reminder any simpler. His companion did not seem to notice his moment of strife as he continued with a more disgruntled expression.  
  
“Furthermore, I know the same has been and can be said about myself. Action before deliberation is one of the more prominent lessons one remembers after serving in Kaon’s royal guard. It is yet another habit I am attempting to break.”  
  
Their Equinoids finally crested the incline, bending around the curve to hike into the thicker groves of trees in the forest. _The closer we come, the more he seems to surprise me_, Optimus mused to himself.  
  
“You were a member of your own royal guard?”  
  
He replied, almost incredulously. The silver mech took it in stride with a nod.  
  
“I was drafted into it immediately after reaching adulthood and served alongside my fellow mecha until I ascended to lordship. Sire had deemed it necessary, at the time I saw no reason to be against it. Such is why I am more inclined to handle issues with a cannon rather than diplomacy.”  
  
Optimus could not help but stare at the warlord for a moment, unconsciously tightening his grip on his mare’s reins and causing her to slow down. Megatron noticed and glanced over at him as the young Prime’s expression fell flat.  
  
“So that is why you held my sire at gunpoint? You’d kill another ruler, force him to give up his son for a bonding union, rather than allow your alliance to exist peacefully?”  
  
The warlord yanked back on the reins, forcing his stallion to slide to an abrupt stop. Detritus grunted and pawed heatedly, and Solus snorted at his annoyed field before coming to a halt as well. Crimson optics dimmed with a cold edge.  
  
“Do not misunderstand me, your highness. I held no intention of murdering another lord or breaking our pact when our meeting began. Iacon is our last ally, whether or not we can help it, we need your support as much as you need ours. But your sire held _no_ respect for Kaon, _nor_ for my place as its ruler. He insulted the right of _my family’s_ claim to the throne, and Optimus, I think you know that a royal has a right to lose their temper when their family is mocked.”  
  
He growled.  
  
Optimus’s expression slowly fell, morphing into shock.  
  
Immediately, he wanted to deny it, call it out and classify it as no more than a nasty lie to turn against his sire. It was entirely possible, Alpha Trion never mentioned anything about this development, he held no logical reason to believe it. But the words would not come to his glossa. His temper would not rise, his spark couldn’t find any anger to feel. Instead, a fleeting file brushed the forefront of his processor, reminding him of his sire’s sudden and atypical ire directed at the Kaon lord the night cycle before. Reminding him of the dagger still tucked away in his subspace, and its promise that he’d clung to before recharge could take him.  
  
Why would his sire, who held _all_ of his allies in the highest contempt, turn against Megatron so… so _cruelly?_  
  
As his expression slackened, his field showing the disquiet building in his spark at the realization, Megatron’s optical brows furrowed and his optics narrowed.  
  
“You did not know of this?”  
  
He asked, tone bordering on incredulity. The prince attempted to swallow the lump in his throat to speak once, then twice, before letting his intake clamp shut. In uncharacteristic frustration, his shoulders slumped from their near perfect posture.  
  
“… No,” he began, his cerulean optics darkening. “I never heard of the meeting from such a point of view. I was only told of my sire’s misgivings.”  
  
Megatron snorted to himself, his piercing gaze finally tearing itself away as he urged Detritus forward on the trail.  
  
“I should’ve expected as much.”  
  
The prince stared after his destined partner, warring emotions within his spark preventing him from acting. When Solus final shook her head and began to dance in place, he shook his helm to right himself, nudging her into motion. It was only when she caught up to the stallion’s side once more that he spoke, his optics never leaving the winding path ahead.  
  
“Lord Megatron, I cannot and will not condone your forceful actions against my sire. Nor will I pretend that your partiality to violence does not scare me. In truth, I am terrified of it… But you are right. Mocking your family to such a degree was not only wrong of the Iaconian ruler, but cruel of my sire.”  
  
As he spoke, he did not notice the optics of warlord sliding over to side-eye him. Not until he turned his upper body in the saddle to incline his helm to his companion.  
  
“… Therefore, on behalf of Iacon’s ruling Prime, and our family’s crest of honor, I formally offer you sincere apologies for the injustice we committed against you. I hope that with our coming union, you can forgive us for this wrongdoing, and we can work together to strengthen our alliance.”  
  
Silence followed his declaration as the warlord of Kaon blinked, the cold edge to his expression gradually fading. After half a klik, it morphed into something pleasanter, and with it the young Prime thought he witnessed his armor loosen in the tiniest fraction. Then, he was given a familiar, but mellowed, half smirk.  
  
“So _that’s_ how one formally apologizes.”  
  
He rebuked amusedly. Optimus couldn’t help a little grin as he raised his helm once more.  
  
“That was more general in the nature of format. But yes, it usually goes something like that, my lord.”  
  
Megatron nodded thoughtfully, his optics brightening once more.  
  
“I should make a note of that, and perhaps bring a blank datapad the next time you are willing to give a lesson.”  
  
The amusement was shared, and the two royals laughed quietly amongst themselves as their Equinoids walked around another bend. They laughed as they passed from a thicker grove of trees into another, the sun above shining through open patches in the forest to light their way. They laughed, and for a moment something between them fell away, like a barrier which had stood in the way since their first encounter.  
  
When their laughter dissipated, the silver mech looked up at the trees surrounding them, scanning their foliage with an inquisitive field.  
  
“I believe you said before we are almost at our destination.” He recalled, catching the young Prime mid-thought. “It’s past mid-cycle. We should be getting very close now, shouldn’t we?”  
  
Optimus pulled himself from his contemplation of their conversation, also looking up and around at the immediate forest, taking in the landmarks and scanning the density of the trees.  
  
“Yes, we should be.”  
  
He then directed his attention southward from the path, looking past the towering crystalline trees and deeper into the forest.  
  
“As a matter of fact,” he stated with a sudden certainty, pulling on his reins to direct Solus off the trail. “follow me.”  
  
Megatron shuttered his optics as he watched the mare peel off into the forest, silver grass crunching under her hooves as she stamped through the untamed woods. Without another second’s delay, he steered his stallion south, falling in step behind the mare’s swishing tail.  
  
They weaved through the trees for another few kliks, their Equinoids hiking over the uneven terrain without much difficulty. As they went, Optimus stood in his stirrups, gazing far over his mare’s head at a clearing in the near distance. There, he could see the sunlight reflecting off of the bushes and trees, glittering in odd places where it shouldn’t be on any normal occasion. At the sight, his optics brightened, and he smiled, pushing his heels into his Equinoid’s sides to cue her to pick up speed. Her head rocketed up as she responded, her legs arching up and stretching into a three-beat canter.  
  
Detritus nickered and began to prance as he walked, his ears flying forward as he watched the Equinoid in front of him dash forward. Megatron loosened his restraint on the reins, allowing the steed to pick up a canter as they ran through the trees. He leaned to one side and then the other, trying to see what the prince had clearly picked up on before he did. But as they gained ground, the lord couldn’t help but notice another clearing up ahead, outlined in a glow so bright he mistook it for white at first.  
  
When they finally cleared the edge of the forest, the lord of Kaon hastily pulled Detritus to a stop, his optics blowing wide at the sight before him.  
  
The forest had opened into an orchard of grand silver spike trees, towering over their helms with branches reaching so high they seemed to touch the expanse of the sky. Around each and every one of these branches, wrapped around every trunk like blankets, spreading in paths over the ground, were the vines from Iacon’s garden. Intricate lines and patterns textured the stringy plants, as if an artist had spent a millennia with all vines to decorate their exterior. Sprouting from the vines in every place he could see, were the familiar light blue crystals. They grew in every shape, every size, pointed in all directions and all reflected the light of the afternoon sun in a different way. At some points in the trees and on the ground, he could see traces of multi-colored spectrums reflecting off some of the crystals. It was as if they too held the beauty of the morning’s light, holding it close throughout the day to finally release it when the sun set over the horizon.  
  
Megatron barely felt he could take it all in at once, losing his sense of dignity for the moment to simply stare at the scene before them. At his side, the young Prime gazed at the vined orchard, a small grin perking from his intake as serenity and peaceful reminiscence stemmed from his magnetic field.  
  
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”  
  
Optimus whispered absently, glancing over at the silver mech. Megatron in turn shook his helm, the amazement he felt becoming known as his field brushed against his companion’s.  
  
“No elegant words or pretty descriptions could ever come close to illustrating this.”  
  
He replied quietly, his optics traveling up the crystal vines of the closest spike tree. Optimus’s smile grew, and he slid his peds from their stirrups, leaning forward to swing his right leg strut over his mare’s rump and then leap down from her back. Solus exhaled a gust of air, licking and chewing at the bit in her mouth as her rider’s field washed over her, calming her. The young Prime walked between the Equinoids, pulling his mare’s reins over her ears before looking up and over his shoulder at his betrothed partner.  
  
“The view is greatly improved up close.”  
  
With that, Optimus pulled Solus to his side, leading her into the grove. Slowly, Megatron followed, dismounting from the stallion and pulling the reins over his head. He then strode forward, stepping swiftly but cautiously through the vines encompassing the ground. His silver helm turned this way and that, diligently committing this place to a new memory file.  
  
“I have traveled every length of Kaon,” he whispered as they walked, looking up at the vines stretching between the tree tops overhead. “I have seen every species of life my city-state has to offer… but I never imagined a place so tranquil, so magnificent as this could exist.”  
  
Optimus paused, bringing Solus to a halt beside his shoulder as his companion stepped up behind them. His expression had become the calmest it had ever been in the presence of the warlord.  
  
“It is a sacred place for my family. My siblings have only been here once before. I visit once a century, to make certain no one attempts to tarnish the grove… It was one of my carrier’s final wishes.”  
  
He lamented softly, shuttering his optics as coolant tears began to pool around their edges. Blissful, bittersweet visions danced behind them, showing the visage of Iacon’s consort walking among the vines, leading him throughout their wandering trails. Ped steps from behind were his only warning before the young Prime felt a servo grasp his shoulder, its clawed digits curling over his pauldron with an affirming grip. Optimus blinked, turning his helm towards the silver mech who now stood at his side.  
  
“She was a smart femme to have entrusted the grove’s care to you.” The warlord assured, his crimson optics glowing as he spoke. “You have done well thus far. And I believe that since this sacred responsibility was given to you, we can arrange for your return once a century to see it through.”  
  
The young Prime’s optics widened, and he turned his frame to fully face the lord of Kaon.  
  
“… You would do that?”  
  
He muttered, to which the silver mech inclined his helm to confirm.  
  
“I did promise to make this union work, did I not?”  
  
His destined partner then lowered to one knee, taking one of the Prince’s servos in his claws. Optimus was left to gape yet again in utter surprise as his other clawed servo fisted and his arm strut was crossed over his chest.  
  
This grove and its stature are important to you,” Megatron continued, his crimson optics piercing and yet so completely earnest. “I would be a fool to think otherwise. And I would be even more of one if I did not allow you to carry out your carrier’s final wish. Thus, it is here that I, Lord Megatron of Kaon, so swear to you, Optimus Prime, that I will aid you in returning to the forests of Iacon once a century to carry out this sacred duty to your carrier… So I have sworn, and so I will act.”  
  
The prince could not hold back his tears as new emotions swamped him. They felt light, dizzying, like the wisps of joy tangled in bashfulness, and relief. Such _wholesome relief_ that leaving Iacon would not have to mean saying goodbye to his creator. When the silver mech rose to his peds, Optimus damned his courtesy coding, let go of his Equinoid’s reins and reached up to wrap his arms tightly around the other mech’s neck, hugging him tightly. Megatron almost stumbled back in shock, dropping the stallion’s reins as his servos hovered uncertainly around the Prime, completely baffled at what to do.  
  
“What—”  
  
He began, only to be silenced by his destined partner’s muffled cry.  
  
“Thank you… Thank you… _Thank you_.”  
  
Optimus repeated, burrowing his faceplates against the lord’s chest. Megatron stared down at him, well aware of the many propriety protocols they were now breaking as well as the courtesy coding which had to be screaming at the young Prime. But the red and blue frame that pressed against him was warm, warmer than anything he’d felt in such a long time. It was solid, bleeding with gratitude from the magnetic field that swarmed around it. It shook the slightest bit, and the silver mech could feel a drip or two of coolant that streamed down his chest plating.  
  
Megatron’s expression gentled. A smile curled on his intake as he finally gathered enough sense to wrap his arms around his betrothed partner. One arched up and between his red shoulder pauldrons, coming to tenderly press the other’s blue helm against him. The other arm wrapped around the prince’s back, his digits stroking up and down his spinal strut. Neither of them said anything, only held onto one another, hoping the moment would last that much longer in the shelter of the silver trees.  
  
The lord of Kaon glanced up at their Equinoids, distant amusement pattering his spark at the sight of the mare and stallion bumping one another with their muzzles, nickering and snorting all the while. He watched them a few nanoseconds longer before offlining his optics, lowering his helm to rest it against the top of his destined partner’s helm. He reveled in the warmth, the wonderful tenderness of such an embrace after a lifetime spent alone. He reveled in the mech he held, whose magnificence outshined even that of the grove of crystal vines.

**Author's Note:**

> cause I need my daily dose of megop, and other muses just happened to barge in while I was writing.
> 
> also frag human arranged marriage traditions. I made my own. suck it.


End file.
